Hostile Genes
by Burning Touch
Summary: Takes place after the events of X3. Rogue has taken the cure, and things start to change around the mansion. Storm calls on an old friend to help at the school and it turns out he's not so new to some people. Romy centric with other pairings.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the X-men, Marvel or anything associated with them. I just get to admire them, through my Romy colored window--yes they do exist. No I'm not joshing you. Honest. Heh.

**- - - **

**Prologue**

_When death has come and taken our loved ones  
It leaves our home so lonely and drear  
And then do we wonder why others prosper  
Living so wicked year after year_

_Farther along we'll know all about it  
Farther along we'll understand why_

- _Farther Along_ by Brad Paisley

- - - - -

Medical Record – Dr. Henry Phillip McCoy

_ Year 2027_

There was something mutants who took the cure didn't know; it wasn't permanent. It temporarily suppressed the mutant X gene. But in the eternal words of James Howlett, better known as Logan, "Sometimes when you cage the beast, the beast gets angry." And no, he was not talking about me—I wish that were the case.

Although the Wolverine was talking about when Charles Xavier attempted to suppress the Phoenix Force, at the time it was true also with the 'Cure'. There's a reason the doctors didn't catch it, they weren't looking for it; at least not in the right places—the right genes. I have no doubt in my mind they were _extremely _thorough with their eradication of the X gene in a mutant. They were human scientists after all and obsolete compared to us. They were scared. They only saw the dominant X gene with a huge target on its cellular membrane, they soared straight over the inferior like many before them have.

Few scientists—genetics included realize the nature of the two different mutant genes; the dominant and the inferior. The dominant gene is with the mutant for their whole life. It starts out small and grows in size until it is large enough to accurately affect the body. That is when a mutant power first manifests within a mutant. There is no determining time when this happens. Most often it is during the teenage years of life, but some develop their powers earlier and later in life. There is no explaining the erratic behavior of the gene yet. The purpose of the dominant gene is to cause the power to first manifest and sustain it there. The inferior gene is of more importance though.

Through the inferior gene a mutant learns to gain control and eventually their powers grow stronger through that gene. This happens by the inferior gene destroying the dominant gene slowly bit by bit to give the body time to adjust to the changes. This process takes years albeit the simple nature of it. Thus the whole time the dominant gene is growing so is the inferior except its hidden, burrowing deep within the regular cells of the body. Camouflaging itself from the dominant gene until the time is right to attack and take over. No one knew about all of this. No one knew _that _was the problem.

Invariably in suppressing the dominant X gene it had no outlet to work through. It therefore became larger in size and strength to try and overcome the restraint. As a result the inferior gene is spurted to overcompensate for the sudden increase of the dominant gene. It works twice as hard and grows to twice the size it would normally need to be. But no one sees this part of the 'Cure'. All people saw was the 2 months that a mutant went without their extra talents.

But without the dominant gene being used, the inferior gene assumes it is time to take over regulation of the mutant's powers. Instead of simply destroying and taking over the dominant gene the inferior gene merges with it. It doesn't know the difference since the dominant gene is inactive. So it does so, it's slow the process taking a month to fully complete. But once that month is over, the mutant's power will have increased and they will have complete control. But that is _if_ the mutant survives the transition of that month. The normalcy process was said to be jarring, and the route back to mutancy is far worse. The heightened powers are more then most bodies can handle all of a sudden. The usual process should take years not a month and not for nearly the same amount of power. But the 'Cure' acted as a type of catalyst. Only the strongest can survive the transformation back. Many were lost along the way.

I would not wish that fate upon my enemies or my friends. But it befell both. And all I could do was sit back and watch, document it so that is will not happen again in the future. The government saw the error in their ways, even if it was at first because they realized that the mutants who survived would be even more powerful then they were before. They understand now that its more then that, and that they were being the racists they swore they would never be again after how their forefathers had made so many mistakes down that road. It is better now, but it was not without a price. For we lost so many, so many that needed saving, but didn't have anyone there to lean on. They were the victims.

--Hank McCoy

- - - - -

Beast closed his medical journal and let out a heavy sigh. So much had happened because of the acts of one ashamed father spurred on by the hatred of a world. Many lives lost because of such a simple injection. But those that survived were stronger for it, both emotionally and physically. Taking off his glasses he wiped the lenses with a cloth deep in thought.

"Hey! Mr. McCoy! You gotta come outside! It's a total mad house!" A young child said sticking his head into the blue mutant's office.

"Have got to come outside," Henry corrected automatically. "And what has caused this pandemonium?"

"Pand-a-what?"

"The mad house," he explained.

The word dawned on the young head as his face lit up with understanding. "Yeah well, it's 'cause Rogue and Gambit just got back!"

"I see this is indeed a joyous occasion then. Shall we go out to meet them, then?" Henry McCoy walked out of the infirmary with a mirrored expression full of happiness on his face. All was well with the mutant manor for the time.

* * *

**A/N: **There will be spoilers for X-3 : Last Stand. So if you have not seen the movie and do not want to ruin it for yourself don't read chapters proceeding this one. Otherwise...let the ball roll! 


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: ** Here's some things to help you out with things like thoughts, and such. Once again **X-3 SPOILER **warning. Enjoy otherwise.

_Thoughts, _--- flashback --- '_telepathy'_ , spoken .

- - -

**CHAPTER I**

_Some say I'm going to hell but I'm already there_

_Sick and tired of being sick and tired_

_I wanna be free from this ball and chain and  
Be free from this life of pain and  
Be free from this ball and chain  
I wanna be free from you_

- _Be Free_ by Papa Roach

- - - - -

_Present Day – Westchester New York_

Life as Xavier's school for Gifted Youngsters was different without the influence of the Professor, Jean Grey and Scott Summers. There were no more ethics classes in the Prof's study. No man in ruby shades to tell you not to run through the hall and no vibrant redhead to greet you as you enter the Medlab. These changes among many affected the students of the school. And I wasn't that Ororo Munroe did an appalling job running the school, it was just different. For her help, she had Hank McCoy and the ever mysterious Wolverine, better known as Logan. All of the older students helped as much as they could. But the three had left large holes to be filled in their absence, and it was an endless job.

The X-men save one had been present when the Brotherhood stormed Alcatraz. They had fought the masses, because that's what they did. They had triumphed too, but at the cost of there own, Jean. She had been taken over by the Phoenix and killed so many people because of its pressure. Perhaps worst was the reality that Logan had to kill her. To kill the woman he was so desperately in love with. Fate is cruel. But he was the only one able to accomplish the feat, with his healing factor.

And then there was Rogue. The X-man who took the 'Cure' despite what her friends said to deter her. Not a one of them knew what it was like to go without touch every day. To be trapped beneath so many layers of hated clothing so no deadly skin shows. All of them believed Rogue would gain control of her powers eventually. But eventually was a long way off and she couldn't wait that long to have control over her curse. The others had gifts that were useful, in battle and in life. They didn't suck the life out of their friends because their hand brushed another. Everything is different when you long for the simplest thing in life; touch.

- - - - -

Rogue walked up the long driveway to Xavier's with her stomach churning. Things would be changed now, things already had changed—and they weren't gong back no matter what. She was no longer imprisoned in her own skin, she could touch. Touch someone, anyone, everyone who she passed, it didn't matter. She could touch. But no it wasn't because she had gotten control over her powers; it was simply because she had taken the 'Cure'. She knew many of mutant kind would look down on her, but she didn't care. She was free from her curse. She could even be Marie again instead of Rogue—except she needed Rogue there as a failsafe incase something happened.

So much had happened though while she waited in line for the 'Cure'. She had seen John and Bobby and hid from both, they would have stopped her—for different reasons though. Of course John had his outbreak later then, that was to be expected—he is a hothead. And then there had been that man, the one with the trench and sunglasses. She couldn't get him out of her head.

---

Rogue was standing at the back of the line waiting for her chance at the 'Cure', her chance to touch. Apparently it was a long way in coming. _Maybe Ah should have just stayed home_, she thought. Each extra second that she spent waiting in line was another one her brain, psyches included, tried to talk her out of taking the cure and telling her it was the best gift she'd ever receive. Then her mind had started insulting her, added on by some of the psyches in her head. _You're a coward to get the 'Cure'_—except that didn't being an X-man prove the opposite?

Leather gloves were pulled tighter up on poisonous skin. Rogue _had_ noticed how crowded the line was, and she didn't want to absorb another soul before she was freed. That's when she heard John.

"Getting the cure so you can go home to mommy and daddy?" The mutant known as Pyro sneered at his former best friend.

Rogue noticed lazily that his hair had grown out quite a bit with his nature blonde to highlight it, giving him a more mature look. _Too bad he doesn't act like it. _The John in her head didn't protest but made a lewd comment about her liking his hair.

"I'm looking for someone," Bobby Drake responded looking up and down and line of those waiting for the 'Cure'.

Rogue quickly ducked behind the person in front of her so she wouldn't be seen. She was always obvious in a crowd, if not for her two platinum streaks then the amass of clothing she had to wear.

"Oh I get it…your _girlfriend_. Figures she'd want the cure," Pyro was obviously baiting Bobby and unknowingly Rogue. "She's pathetic!"

"Oh that's it," Rogue growled adjusting her glove, making an exception to absorbing John in this case. Before she could move towards them though, her elbow was caught in a firm grip. Whirling she came face to face with a smirk and a pair of sunglasses on an extremely handsome face. Auburn hair, not unlike her own, fell around his face to about his chin. The sunglasses seemed to remind her of Scott except that it was bright out and it could just be for the sun. One never knew in a line of mutants though.

"_P'tit_ y' don't want t' be rushin' into dat," A Cajun accent floated out on the air.

Rogue gave him a look that was akin to wanting him dead. "That's where yahre wrong," Handsome face or not she would punch him to get at John and Bobby, mostly Pyro in this case. Of course she'd accidentally absorbed some of Jubilee and Kitty once and they're psyches were both voicing opinions on how cute they thought the Cajun was. Rogue resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the two; even in her head they noticed anything in pants.

"Remy t'ink de _garçons_ got it under control _chére_."

Rogue turned around to look at Iceman and Pyro again, forgetting the annoying Cajun and her urge to break his nose. Pyro didn't notice the solid ice that was Bobby's fist now, but Rogue knew that Bobby had a better control over his powers, including the ability to turn himself into solid ice.

"Go ahead Iceman—make a move," Pyro challenged with a fireball ignited in his waiting hand.

The testosterone level between the two would shoot through the roof of the Empire State's Building. After a pause Bobby let out a breath and turned to walk away. To walk away from the fight he and John had been meant to have so many times before, and usually it was Rogue that stopped them from making it happen.

"Same old Bobby, still afraid of a fight," Pyro spat as he launched the fireball at the building housing the 'Cure'. Of course John didn't know that Bobby had a program in the Danger Room of just John, so he could fight him any time he liked, to vent his frustrations. The Iceman wasn't afraid to fight, he just knew better. He listened to what the Professor said about mutant equality and relations between mutants and humans. If humans see mutants fighting even between themselves they will believe that they are no better than common animals.

Once both Iceman and Pyro were gone from her sight she turned to the Cajun that still had her arm in his grasp. "There Ah didn't do anythang. Now let go o' meh."

"Dat's a fine way to t'ank Remy. How 'bout a kiss instead?" The supposed Remy-who-likes-to-talk-in-the-third-person started to pull her closer.

Rogue finally wrenched her arm out of his hold with a trick Logan had taught her. "How about a coma swamp rat?"

To her frustration the only thing he did was chuckle. Rogue moved up with the line and away from the Cajun. His response was to simply pull her from the line altogether.

"Hey! Just what do ya think yahre doin'?" Rogue glared up at him, she had just noticed how tall he was. _Gawd, Ah feel short_, she thought which given her five foot eight inches wasn't a usual thought.

"Remy helped y' out back dere, now y' got t' help him," Remy reasoned.

"Helped meh? From Pyro and Iceman? _Puh-lease_, Ah can defend mahself from them," _But apparently not annoying Cajuns! _Rogue added silently.

"De way Remy sees it he still helped."

"Remy would see it dat way," Rogue mocked him.

Remy smirk only seemed to widen at her comment, at least someone was enjoying their conversation. "So_ chére_ y'd owe _moi_."

Rogue raised a challenging eyebrow in return to his suggestion. "Oh yeah, and just what do Ah owe ya?"

"Dis," Remy caught her around the waist and pulled her tight against him. He leaned down his head and pressed his lips against her own, sucking gently on her lower lip. Rogue used her hands to push against the Cajun's chest, because as much as she disliked him, she didn't want him in a coma—or her head. But Remy only caught her wrists in one hand while the other was wrapped firmly around her waist. Rogue became grateful for Remy's strong hold on her a second later, as it kept her knees from giving out and helped with the sudden dizziness of her head. The fuzzy feeling in her stomach was not something she could place and it didn't quite register with her at the time. Rogue did however register that she had parted her lips slightly before he had kissed her, intending to say something. Now it was as if she was inviting him into her mouth. As she felt his tongue against hers, and she decided she'd deal with the absorption when it came—and then the comatose Cajun.

Remy was entirely convinced he had picked the right _femme_, to hide him from Metal Head's goons, one of which had been the Pyro kid. _Dis femme tastes like honey_, _un baiser __was de right choice, _he mused smirking slightly. He had realized he was gripping the auburn haired beauty a little hard and loosened up. Although his hand held her wrists between them Remy noticed how perfectly the two of them fit together, like lost puzzle pieces. It was a few moments after that when Remy realized he was enjoying this more than was acceptable for keeping himself hidden, not to mention a certain lack of air. He pulled away and instantly missed the warmth of her mouth. "Remy told y' de kiss would be better."

Rogue blinked several times looking at the Cajun's chest. It wasn't that his chest wasn't interesting to look at; it was the fact that her mind was racing a mile a minute trying to process what had just happened. _Did he just kiss meh? Gawd what if Bobby saw? Hah, serves him right tha way he's been with Kitty lately. Wait—he kissed meh. How could he kiss meh without the life bein' sucked outta him._ "What…did ya…and ya…breathin'—h-h-how?" Rogue was confused to say the least.

"Sorry t' leave y' breathless _chére_, but Remy's got t' leave," Remy caught her hand and placed a kiss on her hand. "T'anks for hidin' _moi_ by de way."

Rogue watched as he left, she should have run after him to get some answers if not to just slap him for kissing her so blatantly. Unfortunately for her the shock of just being kissed without absorbing someone left her a bit simple minded. The auburn girl raised her fingers to her lips, and was met by the feel of soft leather. So she hadn't taken the 'Cure' yet, what other reason was there for it? The thought of the 'Cure' caused her to turn around and look back at the line.

"Damnit! That swamp rat made meh lose mah place!" Rogue seethed as she walked to the back of the line. Again she was waiting except this time; she had something else to occupy her thoughts. Not to mention Kitty and Jubilee were both complaining at the lose of the Cajun and Rogue not running after him to as they put it 'Kiss him senseless'. Rogue had to resist rolling her eyes again at the pair.

---

Rogue shook her thoughts of the Cajun, as she still hadn't figured out why he had been able to touch her. It didn't matter anymore though, anyone could touch her now. That thought brought a genuine smile to her face, but it sobered up quickly. She had heard what had happened while she was gone. She had heard who they had lost. The three of them were gone—the Professor, Jean, and Scott. The three pillars of the school. And now Ororo was running by herself.

It was going to be hard going back into the Mutant Manor now as a human, they all realized by now where Rogue had gone too. Well, truthfully Logan had known beforehand and he had been right he wasn't her father—he was a friend. Frankly if he had been her father Rogue would probably never be allowed to go out of the manor. Logan was just protective like that, especially of the girls in the mansion.

Idly she wondered how many knots a person's stomach could have before it became too much for them. _Morbid sense of humor_, one had to have it when their touch could kill someone—could _have_ killed someone. Past tense, as in gone—forever, Rogue would never have to hurt someone like that again. Reaching for the door handle she couldn't help but feel nervous about what lay behind that door. Although it was her home, she decided to knock instead of just walking in. Somehow, she didn't feel like she quite belonged her anymore, and she was right. Rogue wasn't a mutant anymore.

Her knock was weak, giving a voice to the nerves she as trying to ignore. It was only one knock; no one would have heard it. She should knock again, but harder this time. She had to think like the Rogue she named herself. So what if she wasn't a mutant anymore, she could still do Danger Room sessions, she didn't need her powers in those. Only a few things would change her wardrobe and personality. No more would she be the depressed girl trapped behind layers of clothing. She was different now.

Rogue slowly realized she'd been lost in her thoughts again chewing on her lip when the door opened. When she looked up she almost laughed, standing at the door was Logan. _Of course he'd hear the knock,_ she berated herself.

"Hey kid," Logan greeted Rogue in his usual gruff manor.

"Logan," Rogue was trying hard to keep from looking at her toes, she felt like he was disappointed in her somehow. "So yah're staying then?"

"'Ro won't let me leave. Took the keys to my bike," Logan grunted with a small scowl on his face at the thought of losing his bike, normally he'd just hotwire the vehicle in the way only Wolverine could, but he would never do that to his _own_ bike.

"Ah'm sure she'll give 'em back eventually," Rogue said assuredly.

Logan's scowl turned into a small smile and his eyebrow was raised at her. "Tryin' to make me feel better Stripes?"

"Worth a shot," Apparently the smile was contagious because Rogue's face had caught it too.

"Come here kid," Logan beckoned her inside and in to their customary hug, whenever one of them left the mansion—which was almost always Logan.

Rogue ran up to Logan and gave him a fierce hug, checking him over to make sure he wasn't hurt. She knew it was stupid; he had a healing factor after all—but something inside of her made her worry about him. He definitely wasn't her father, but he wasn't quite a friend, more of an older brother.

Logan had noticed one difference about Rogue already, besides the fact that she was nervous about being back—back to her home.. Every single time he had arrived back at the mansion and was given a hug she would stop a few feet from him and check to make sure all of her skin was covered before proceeding. This time though, she didn't give it a second thought, and she was showing more skin than he had ever seen on her. When they both released from the embrace he looked down on her, "So you got the cure then?"

The nervousness was back, "Yeah…It was what Ah wanted."

"I'm glad for you darlin'. It makes you happy, that's what counts," Logan stated. A smile crossed her face and he knew he said that right thing.

"Thanks, Logan."

"Well, come on. Ororo will want to know yer back," Logan began to lead her to what had been the Professor's office and was now being used by Storm. She of course would never consider it her own office; it would be the Professor's forevermore.

Rogue didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing that she and Logan passed no one on the way to the office. In fact if it was at all possible it made her more nervous than she had been to start with. Starring at the large oak door when they arrived though, Rogue knew that this would only be the beginning of her arrival back at the mansion.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Alright, here's the next chapter. And we had a brief moment of Romy with Gambit. Personally I think the whole 'kiss' part is written poorly…so I'm going to strive an improve that. I have included translations of all French words included; any future French (which with Remy is guaranteed) will most likely be done with an online translator. So if you are fluent or just know it, I'm sorry for how the mistakes in sentences, I can only ask my sister so much French. 

_Reviews_ - Thanks for reviewing! Glad you like Hank, he'll be appearing more hopefully. And it will be door #2 as far as how the story will unfold. Well...you'll see from this chapter most likely. Heh.

Coming Up: Phone conversations and office offers.

Translations:

_P'tit _– (Petite) Little one

_garçons _- boys

_chére _- dear

_moi _- me

_femme _–woman/lady

_un baiser _– a kiss


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Per the request of _xLiLix_, a brief summary of the Cajun that is Gambit for those that have only seen the movies. His full name is Remy Etienne LeBeau. He's about 6' 2" with more auburn hair than brown and red on black eyes. (It'll all most likely be described more in coming chapters) He was adopted by Jean-Luc LeBeau as a young child and brought up in the New Orleans Thieves Guild. He has an adopted brother Henri and some cousins. His power is to convert the potential energy of an object to kinetic on contact, once contact is taken away there's like five seconds before things go boom. He has heightened agility and strong mental shielding—which can be counted as a power, but is most likely due to his kinetic ability. His last power is a hypnotic charm which allows him to influence others, compelling them to believe what he says and agree to suggestions. I'm hoping that helped you out a bit! 

- - -

**CHAPTER II **

_But your actions speak louder than words  
And they're only words, unless they're true  
Your actions speak louder than promises_

_-- Words _by Madonna

- - - - -

Ororo Munroe was sitting at what had previously been Charles Xavier's desk. She was acting as head in his stead, and frankly she was _terrified_. Teaching the children how to control their powers and other various classes was one thing, being a full time X-man another, but actually _running_ the school, now that was _hard_. The worst of it was that Ororo kept thinking back to what the school had started out as, when it had been Professor Xavier, and his first students; Jean Grey, Henry McCoy, Scott Summers and Ororo Munroe. And with those memories came the wisps of the euphoria the four had experienced together. Her face fell as she thought back to those times from the past in which only two were still alive to remember. The Greek playwright Aeschylus had once said, "_There is no pain as great as the memory of joy in the present grief_," and to this Ororo would have to agree.

Without the added help of the three persons' they had lost the school was lacking in teachers. Hank had offered to stay and help, he apparently didn't feel as comfortable being Secretary of Mutant Affairs anymore, and the school needed him. Affectionately named Beast for his somewhat fearsome mutation, he would not only be useful as a teacher but as a new doctor for the infirmary, seeing as their last one had died—twice. He would be taking over the science classes and a British literature course that focused on one of his passions; Shakespeare.

Logan, well he was a different case. Storm knew that taking the keys of his beloved motorcycle wasn't nearly necessary to keeping him around the school, but it sure did guarantee he would stay around. Unfortunately the Canadian native wasn't exactly a patient person, so teaching academics was out of the question. He was however in charge of Danger Room sessions and due to his healing factor, helping to train the students in using their powers. Unfortunately he also took care of the physical education and self defense classes. Ororo felt horrible about putting a bike deprived Wolverine on the children, but it was necessary.

The white-haired goddess herself was currently wondering what to do with the mathematics, history and other English classes, not to mention languages and other electives. She herself could teach the mathematics classes and she had employed Kurt Wagner to cut his visit to Germany short to teach that class. Warren Worthington, who had decided to stay at the mansion after the chaos his father caused with the 'Cure', had volunteered to teach the history classes as his father had made his heir read dozens of historical texts. Several of the older students had offered to pitch in as they had technically finished high school. Jubilation Lee it seemed was more adept at Spanish then her heritage Chinese and would therefore be taking over the Spanish classes.

Piotr Rasputin was a skilled artist and took on the drawing, painting, sculpting and pottery classes. Kitty Pryde was the obvious choice for any of the technology classes including photography. Bobby Drake had grudgingly admitted to taking several years of piano lessons and was appointed the music director. So that left the remaining English classes and French. Storm was hoping that when Rogue returned, she could persuade the southerner into teaching English, which had been her best subject. There was only one person Ororo could think of to teach French, and she was seriously dreading exposing the students to _him._

Sighing, the weather witch thumbed through the small black book she kept of important numbers. When she found the appropriate one she hesitantly lifted the receiver and dialed the number, to be met by ringing and then a message, "_Bonjour mes amis! Ceci est le téléphone de Remy. Si vous êtes un de ses filles part votre nom et numérote si l'Acadien peut vous retourner à. Sauf si vous êtes ce poussin collant, Remy a un ordre restreignant sur vous. Si vous êtes cherchez les services de Remy partent votre information de contact. Et si vous êtes la famille de Remy, juste dire que quelque chose si Remy sait son vous là-bas._"

"Remy LeBeau, I am _not_ one of your girls. Now answer your phone!" Ororo exclaimed into the phone.

"Should hope not Stormy, y' be one o' Remy's _femmes_," The familiar Cajun accent floated over the line.

"By the Goddess, do _not_ call me that!"

"But s' de name Remy give y' 'Ro," Storm was positive that he was smirking on the other end of the phone as he talked to her, and for that she wished she could drench him on the spot with a well placed rain cloud.

"I don't know why I bother anymore with you, Remy," Ororo had her hand against her forehead already frustrated with her southern friend.

"S'simple _belle_, y' like de sound o' Remy's voice."

Storm snorted, "Yeah that's it. There was an actual reason for my call Remy, not _just_ to hear your voice," Her tone had turned somber as she thought of the reason why she was calling and because of what happened.

"What de matter Stormy?" The Cajun Casanova asked genuinely concerned for his long-time friend.

"Have you seen the news recently Remy?" The _Oui_ from her companion caused her to continue, "Then you'd know about the Cure fiasco and Magneto's role in Alcatraz."

"_Oui_, Remy know a bit 'bout dat all."

"Well, there's probably something you don't know. The previous year, one of my team mates and friends, Jean Grey sacrificed herself to save the rest of us at Alkali Lake," Storm still found it difficult to talk about Jean's first death, her second one, was even harder.

"Remy remember dat _femme_, she de redhead doctor," Remy added softly.

The weather witch took a deep breath, "As it turns out she had a multiple personality suppressed within her mind by the Professor called Phoenix. The Phoenix Force invariably saved her from the wave that crashed down upon her, and she was put in a stupor under the water until she was awakened again by the Phoenix. Scott—he'd had a difficult time adjusting to life without Jean…and then he started acting impulsively and uncharacteristic. He wouldn't show up for sessions and he kept visiting the Lake. And then the last time he didn't come back."

Remy realized what she meant without her having to explain it further. "M' sorry Stormy, I know what Cyke meant t' y'."

"It only got worse from there Remy. Logan and I went to search for Scott, and instead we found an unconscious Jean and his glasses. As it turns out we believe she killed him. It wasn't Jean though, it was the Phoenix. So when we took her back to the mansion she reacted badly to the Professor trying to bring Jean out again. She left and went back to her home—Jean's old home," Ororo's eyes were welling with tears as she thought about what had happened next. "The Professor, Logan and I went there to bring her back to the mansion and Magneto had his Brotherhood there as well. He and the Professor went in while the rest of us waited outside. By the end of it though, Phoenix had killed the Professor."

"'Ro, y' weren't inside when it happened were y'?" the Cajun asked, knowing how she looked up to the telepathic bald man.

"I wasn't in the room no. Phoenix chose to side with the Brotherhood after that, Magneto had offered her unlimited power in return. And then with Alcatraz it ended with Logan being forced to kill Jean to stop the Phoenix. They're all gone, they left." Ororo whispered the last sentence into the phone.

If Remy had been there he would have embraced his friend, as it was, it was eating him up inside that he could only offer hollow comforts to the white haired woman. "Y' still got Henrí, _non_?"

"Hank is here yes—and he plans to stay here rather than go back as Secretary. There was a reason I asked you about the events though Remy," Storm's tone returned to that of a friendly yet businesslike manner, trying to think of happier things.

"An' what dat be 'bout?"

"I have taken charge of the institute. And since we lost three teachers at the same time its necessary to find replacements the best way I can. And one of the classes I need a teacher for is French—"

Remy cut her off rather quickly, "Stormy, y' askin' Remy to be a teacher?"

"Yes, that's what I was planning on asking you _if _you didn't interrupt me," Storm chided.

"A teacher? Like de kind who teaches kids? Y' want Remy t' influence de mind's of children? Remy thought we decided dat was a bad t'ing for him t' do," Remy LeBeau was quite seriously shocked.

Ororo resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her friend's antics. "I need someone to teach the position and I am confident the children will be able to handle your _electric_ personality."

"Stormy, y' know Remy love y' but teaching… It don't exactly sound like something Remy be good at," the Casanova continued to protest.

This time Ororo did roll her eyes. "Fine, if you could only come up to New York for a few weeks to teach the course so that I have sufficient time to find another teacher I would appreciate it."

"Remy already found y' a teach. She a _belle femme_, 'bout same height as y', hair de color of milk and skin like chocolate. She spoke perfect _Français_. Wait, dat _femme_ be y' Stormy," Remy pretended that the conclusion surprised him.

"Don't you think if I could teach the class I would have already? But I'm taking on all of the mathematics classes."

"So? Y' told Remy y' used to teach tons of classes before," the Cajun pointed out stubbornly.

Storm let out a frustrated sigh, "The difference was before, I didn't have to run the whole school along with it and could therefore teach more classes. I honestly don't know how we ever survived with only four or five teachers before."

"Luck o' de draw, Remy suppose," There was a pause from the other end of the line before, "Where did y' say dis school o' y'rs was Stormy?"

"Your serious? You'll come and teach—if only for a little while?"

"_Oui_, dat Remy be. He may not be dere right away t'ough Stormy. Now t' de directions _s'il vous plaît_."

Ororo leaned back in the leather chair and began to _refresh_ Remy's memory even though she knew he hadn't forgotten the school's location. Since she was still slightly dazed how she had convinced Remy to agree she was content to let the conversation drift off.

"Mercy and Henrí, dey still actin' like dey're newlyweds. Dey was positively frisky de last time Remy say dem. Not t' mention de fact dat dey got _un bébé_ on de way," Remy had been informing 'Ro about the happenings in New Orleans since they had last talked.

Ororo couldn't help but chuckle at that statement. The two Cajuns had been sweethearts their whole life and nothing changed once they were married. "I take it you haven't found anyone to keep your attention for more than a day yet?"

"An' what 'bout y' Stormy? Y' makin' _nice _wit' de Yankees?"

"Is it too late to retract my job offer?" Storm sighed realizing what she was going to be subjecting the students too.

"S' y'r own fault for callin' up Remy," the Cajun reminded her lightly.

"And just how many times will I hear that excuse?"

"Excuse? Remy don't need excuses, he's got _charm_."

Storm made a sound of disbelief. She was about to make a retort when there was a knock on her door. She covered the mouth piece with her hand before commanding, "Come in," When she saw Rogue enter with Logan she decided it would be best to end her friendly conversation now.

"I've got go now, but I'll expect you in no more than two months," Ororo ordered, making sure that her friend would end up at the institute eventually.

"Y' sure y' don't just want Remy dere for some Southern comfort 'Ro?"

Storm rolled her eyes and took a deep breath, "Good-bye Gambit. Two months, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah no need to remind me Stormy. Remy be dere."

Ororo set the receiver back in the cradle with a smile on her face as she shook her head ridding her head of her Cajun friend to take in the other Southerner presently before her.

Rogue had taken one of the seats right in front of the large oak desk and was wringing her hands almost nervously, despite the fact that she viewed the Weather Witch as a friend. She also knew how strongly Ororo opposed the whole 'Cure' concept, viewing their mutant powers as a gift. And so Rogue was somewhat tense thinking that maybe she wouldn't be allowed to stay at the Institute any longer without her so called 'gifts'. _A, B, C, D, Ororo's gunna fry meh, _she thought rather morbidly and then _Wonder who she was talkin' ta on the phone..._ Her thoughts had become somewhat erratic due to the state of her nerves, and the fact that she no longer had anyone else talk with within her own head. _Ah do not miss them, Ah do NOT want them back. Ah am happy right now, that's not changing._

To the white haired woman in the room, it was obvious that some things had changed with the southern girl in front of her. Most notable, besides her exposure of skin, was her demeanor. It was true that when the girl had first arrived at Xavier's, tagging alongside Logan she had been quite timid—besides the fact that she choose to be called Rogue. Her apprehension was for the most part lost after her incident with Magneto, although she had become more guarded after the occasion. That was hardly her own fault after all. But at Alkali Lake she had shown her brave resourcefulness in trying to fly and land the plane to save the rest of them. At that time she definitely fit her Rogue persona. But now, now she was back to that outwardly timid girl. Her old confidence and fiery Southern attitude seemed eradicated. _How much had the cure changed?_

Ororo finally emerged from her inner musings to look at Rogue with a friendly smile which in turn was returned if albeit hesitantly. Her azure eyes then turned to the wolf-man who was still present in the room. "Logan, I appreciate you alerting me to Rogue's return," her eyes flicked from the Canadian to the Southerner. "But I would like to talk with her privately, if you don't mind."

"'Ro..." Wolverine started to protest, he didn't want Storm to rip Rogue a new one about doing something that made her happy.

"Do not worry Logan. I do not plan to be hostile in any way to Rogue towards her decision whatever it may be."

"Alright then," Logan looked between the two women. "See if ye can get my keys outta her, Stripes."

Rogue laughed a smile easily gracing her face, "Ah don't think Ororo's that easy Logan."

He reply was to simply snort and walk out of the room leaving it occupied with an uncomfortable silence. Both women were almost wishing he was back inside the room, but his flare for reckless thinking would not be welcomed in a conversation that could go from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.

"Storm Ah—"

"Rogue—"

In their haste to fill the silence they both had started talking at the same time. Rogue put on a nervous smile, "Ya go ahead Storm."

"Alright child if that's what you want. First of all, haven't I told you enough times to call me Ororo?" Ororo lightly scolded. She did count Rogue as a friend now, the girl young in age was mature beyond her years having witnessed dozens of horrific memories, some being those of Ororo's own.

"Sorry, 'Ro Ah'm a little flustered," Rogue admitted with a hint of her sometimes child-like innocence.

Ororo moved out from behind Xavier's desk and went to sit on the edge of it, so that her conversation with Rogue would seem personal as opposed to business. Her smile lost some sparkle as she thought of what she was going to have to ask next. "Rogue, do you know what happened while you were gone?"

Rogue's head bent down as she peered at her moving hands. She lightly bit her lip to keep the tears that were shining in her eyes from falling. Each time she thought about what happened she felt like sobbing—but she wouldn't, Rogue didn't cry. When she looked up at her previous teacher's face she saw her attempting to keep her feelings in check the same was that Rogue was. "Yeah Ororo, Ah know what happened."

Storm nodded before continuing, "That saves the trouble of explaining it to you then. We are holding a ceremony—a funeral for them…" She choked up as she thought about the monuments they had constructed; only one had a body within it. She felt a warm hand in her own and looked down to see Rogue's hand within her own. She gave a small smile at the girl's kindness. "We were planning to have it two days, giving everyone some time to grieve. But we all decided that too long of a grievance period would only prolong the agony."

"Ah understand, thank ya for tellin' meh about it," Rogue all but whispered.

"Think nothing of it child," Ororo sniffed gaining her composure back. She looked down upon Rogue hand in her own, Rogue's _bare_ hand. "So you decided to get the 'Cure' then?"

Rogue noticed a small amount of distain in the older woman's voice and it only increased her apprehension. This was the part of the conversation she had been dreading all along. "Yeah, Ah…Ah decided this was what Ah wanted. Ta be able ta touch people again an' not have ta worry about absorbing all of 'em. And Ah know it seems like Ah'm a coward, and that Ah just gave up mah powers but, it's what Ah wanted. It's what Ah needed, what Ah was doing before it wasn't living it was just existing. Ah didn't make a rash decision to just give them up, Ah've been thinking about this for awhile, Gawd knows that line was long enough for second thoughts. But Ah don't have any. An' Ah'll understand if ya don't want meh here no more, Ah mean Ah'm not a mutant anymore." _I don't belong_.

Storm looked on the child who had led such a tortured and chaotic life because of her powers. Somewhere inside of her she did feel anger that Rogue had given up her powers, but then she could understand why the girl had done it. To live without touch was not something anyone should experience. She looked down to Rogue's hand again and then back to the fidgeting girl in front of her. She gave the pale hand a small squeeze of encouragement.

"I could not ask you to leave what is your home Rogue, mutant or not. Although I am not entirely happy with your decision, I do understand your choice. No everyone's powers are manageable," Ororo said.

Rogue's head shot up from where it had been looking at her hands. "Really? Ya serious 'Ro? Ah can stay here?"

"I am quite serious Rogue," Storm said with a small smile.

Rogue blinked rapidly for a few seconds before her brow furrowed in thought. "Are ya sure? 'Cause Ah'll most likely be a burden among so many mutants, not that Ah wasn't one before—but now."

"You were never a burden, dear. And actually if you do plan to stay I have something to ask of you."

"What do ya need Ororo?" Rogue asked relieved that she would be able to stay at her home, now that she was a normal human again.

She ran her hand shakily through white hair tinted with gray. "With the absence of three teachers I'm finding it surprising how many classes we have a need to fill. I have all of the other positions filled except for the English courses—excluding Shakespeare. I was hoping a certain striped friend would be able to take on those classes," Storm put it out in the open, hoping that Rogue would accept the offer.

"Teaching? Ah'm barely outta school mahself, but teaching seems…Ah don't know 'Ro—"Rogue started to think up an excuse, it wasn't that she wasn't grateful and all, but she didn't know if she liked the idea of being tied down. Apparently more than a few things had rubbed off on Rogue after spending so much time with Logan.

Ororo had cut her off though before she could produce her chosen excuse. "What is it with Southerner's and teaching? Rogue, this would give you a reason to stick around. And if anyone ever challenged your right to stay here this would be the reason, not to mention that this is your home. Besides I need you to help me keep Logan here."

Rogue laughed at the afterthought Ororo had added. "Alright, Ah'll teach the English classes. When this blows up around meh, Ah'm blamin' ya."

Ororo got off the desk to embrace the young woman warmly. "I am glad you will help me out Rogue," she admitted softly.

"Ya know Ah'd help ya with anything Ah can," Rogue whispered. When they had both let go they had smiles on their faces. "What classes _did_ ya assign Logan?"

The goddess's face split into an extremely mischievous grin that Rogue hardly ever saw on the older woman's face. "He's _graciously_ accepted to teach the physical education and self defense classes. I have also put him in charge of the Danger Room sessions some of which will be used to help the students control their powers. I would appreciate it though if you went along on those sessions to prevent the children from coming to too much harm."

That of course caused Rogue to chuckle, "Ah'm sure Logan wouldn't due them much harm."

"I took away the keys to his bike remember," Ororo pointed out.

"Dear Gawd 'Ro! Are ya tryin' ta kill the kids?" Rogue exclaimed while laughing before she voice evened out again. "Is it a good idea ta have meh in the Danger Room, Ah mean Ah don't exactly have powers anymore."

"Rogue, your powers only helped you in the Danger Room when another person lended you the use of their own powers. Your fighting skills are still quite adept," Ororo explained. It was true that Rogue's powers were never exactly useful in the Danger Room, except when she could use another's ability and she disliked doing that. So it usually came down to her relying on her ability to mold her body to the situation and use the skills she had acquired while at the mansion.

Rogue's face broke into a grin, "Thanks 'Ro. Now how's 'bout ya tell this Southerner who else ya roped inta teachin' for ya."

"I did not 'rope' anyone into teaching, they were voluntary," Ororo silently added a _For the most part_.

"Uh-huh," Rogue rolled her eyes, "And what did ya do, threaten them with Danger Room sessions with Logan?"

Ororo it seemed had something caught in her throat and was given to coughing fit, though it was a fake one. Rogue's eyes went wide and her hand flew to her mouth. "'Ro! Ah can't believe yah'd do that!"

"I did not do that--"Storm began and then seeing Rogue's disbelieving look added, "—to more than two people."

The two-tone haired girl was on the edge of her seat waiting for the weather witch to elaborate on how exactly she had managed to fill all of the teaching positions. Storm was having a hard time resisting under the Southerners stare and finally relented.

"By the Goddess, stop looking at me like that! I will tell you."

"Finally, mah face was startin' to freeze up," Rogue teased lightly.

"You want me to start off with Logan?" Ororo asked and received a nod in reply, "Well after I found out the location of his keys…"

The two women talked for longer than most would have expected. Rogue had to laugh when she heard about the subject Bobby would be teaching. _He'll neva hear the end of it_, she thought amused. When Rogue had looked at the clock again she had to excuse herself from the study saying, "Ah still have ta tell the others Ah'm back."

"I understand, you go and have some fun child. Don't forget that classes start in about a week," Ororo reminded her as she walked out the door.

Rogue waved the thought off with her hand as she walked out of the room. It was time she found Jubilee, Kitty before they tore the mansion down looking for her. A part of her also reminded her to visit Bobby but she was silently dreading seeing him again. It would be interesting to say the least.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Alrighty then, another chapter down the tube. I'm sorry it took a bit to update, I started school again and they heap on the homework, along with the fact that the computer is not always accessible. I do have the plot mostly planned out, so that should make things easier on yours truly. This chapter has a good example of translator French, I know it's ghastly this way—but I take Spanish. The next chapter or two may not have Remy in it but he will show up in person! What a day that'll be. 

_Reviews_ – Thanks again for the reviews! I put a brief Remy/Gambit bio at the top for only movie goers. The two powerless months are going to go by pretty fast I'd say the maximum would be 4 chapters, but I'm thinking more like 2 essentially. We'll have to see. _Morgie_, I'm actually extrememly glad you pointed that fact out to me, it hadn't really occurred to my knowledge before, but thanks to you the reasoning will be incorporated in the next chapter.

Coming Up: Meet the Boyfriend, Gossip Central is in Session

Translations:

_Bonjour mes amis! Ceci est le téléphone de Remy. Si vous êtes un de ses filles part votre nom et numérote si l'Acadien peut vous retourner à. Sauf si vous êtes ce poussin collant, Remy a un ordre restreignant sur vous. Si vous êtes cherchez les services de Remy partent votre information de contact. Et si vous êtes la famille de Remy, juste dire que quelque chose si Remy sait son vous là-bas. _–––Hello my friends! Dis be Remy's phone. If y' be one of his girls leave y'r name and number so de Cajun can get back to y'. 'Cept if y're dat clingy chick, Remy has a restraining order on y'. If y' be lookin' for Remy's services leave y'r contact information. An' if y' be Remy's family, just say somet'ing so Remy know s' y'. (alright, I put it all in Remy-speech to make it all more interesting 'cause its soooo long—sorry about the scrolling)

_Femmes_ – women

_Belle_ – beautiful (used as a sort of nickname in this instance)

_Oui __– _Yes

_Non – _No.

_Français __– _French

_Un bébé __– _A baby


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Alright I just want to add this briefly. I'm really sorry about the update delays school was eating me alive. And also to say that I changed the flashbacks from this / to --- those, because FF always seems to get peeved at me for the slashes but not dashes. So three closed dashes are flashbacks and five open dashes are just like scene change/time lapse type things. Sorry for switching it up on you, I might go back and change it in the previous chapter, but it's not likely. 

- - -

**CHAPTER III**

_Are the things we hold inside  
Like a day in the open,  
Like the love we won't forget  
Like the laughter that we started  
And it hasn't died down yet_

_The Gathering of Spirits _by Carrie Newcomer

- - - - -

Webster's dictionary states that restoration is 'a putting or bringing back into a former, normal, or unimpaired state or condition'. If it is bringing things back to an unimpaired or uninjured state why then can the restorations be bitter-sweet and leave bile in a person's throat? Could it be the reason why reunions after years of anger are embraced with joyous emotions? Or the simple act of reconciliation itself that stirs the emotions, which have simmered so long, to the surface. What is it that causes the bile and apprehension?

Rogue wish she knew. It would have helped.

She walked away from Ororo and towards her dormitory. She had her duffel slung over her shoulder, as a precaution just incase. Incase she wasn't allowed to stay, unless she didn't _choose_ to return—incase things were different. But of course things would be different. Things were always different when it came to Rogue.

Every time Rogue came to the mansion things were different.

When she had first arrived there trailing Logan as scarred little Marie; naïve and easily impressionable to acts of kindness due to the harsh nature of her mutation. She had immediately warmed up to the place. She was even enthused at being able to attend classes at the school. That was where she first met Bobby and John. It was that fateful day when a timid auburn haired girl sat down in her first classes at Mutant Manor.

---

Marie sat down in the class Professor Xavier had placed her in. He had offered her a room here if they choose to stay here after Logan woke up. _Logan_. He still hadn't recovered yet, recovered from their being attacked by that beast, that man. _Sabertooth_, that's what the nice redheaded doctor Jean Grey had called him. Logan's truck, trailer and bike had been ruined because of that man. But the two of them had been _mostly_ unharmed; except for Logan. He didn't have any outwardly injuries so he should have woken up. But he hadn't woken up yet. Marie guessed it was her fault; she might have touched him by accident in the confusion. But the X-men had showed up, to help her with Logan, for which she was grateful.

She had been sitting by his bedside hoping he would wake up; if only to ease her own peace of mind. She would admit to herself she felt _something_ for the Wolverine. She just didn't know what. It wasn't what she'd for David, or her aunt and uncle. It was something else entirely. Marie didn't know what it was, but she liked it. He made her feel safe and she acted braver when she was around him, partially to show him she wasn't some scared little girl. Like when she snapped at him when he wouldn't give her a ride. It wasn't a crush, it wasn't quite love—it was something else.

She had been sitting near his lab bed when Charles Xavier had rolled through the automatic doors. He graced her with a grandfatherly smile as he regarded her with a pleasant expression. "I thought I might find you here."

"Is there something ya need Mister—Professor?" Marie corrected herself. When she had arrived Xavier had told her to simply use the pronoun Professor instead of Mister, claiming the latter made him feel old. She had scoffed, as the man could hardly have less than fifty seasons behind him.

"No my dear, I simply wanted to see how our patient was progressing," Charles wheeled closer to Logan's beside. "He is quite a remarkable man. I have no doubt he will pull through this."

"Thank ya, Ah know it seems silly me sittin' here an' all. Ah mean Ah've barely known the guy a few hours and already Ah'm worried over him. But ta be honest, he was the only other mutant Ah knew…An' Ah don't know. It just felt like we clicked some how. Ya know?" Marie dragged her eyes away from Logan's lying form to look at the Professor's sympathetic face.

"I do indeed. The two of you share several similarities, as far as I can tell," he smiled again. It was true, the two people in front of him were alike in many ways, and they had been connected by a fateful meeting. The bond was unexplained, but present nonetheless.

Marie put her gloved hand to her forehead, exhausted. "Ah'm sorry, Ah didn't mean ta go all teenage drama on you. Not while ya'll have been so kind. Gawd, Ah just keep ramblin' on don't Ah?"

The Professor's chest rumbled with a rich chortle. "It is quite alright. I must admit, I did have an ulterior motive for coming to visit down here."

Marie's eyebrow shot up, "Care ta elaborate Professor?"

"I had noticed how infrequently you left this room. And," he began holding up a hand as he saw Marie open her mouth to protest. "I believe you need something to take your mind off of the patient at hand."

"Ah'm fine, honestly. Ah don't mind waitin' for Logan ta wake up," Marie objected. She was perfectly fine with waiting for him to wake up. It was a tad on the boring side and she kept going over everything that had happened to her so far since her powers had surfaced. How she kept shifting the blame from herself to Sabertooth to Logan for not wearing his damned seatbelt!

"My dear, you have been projecting quite loudly for the last few hours. I sense it would be in your best interest if you had something to take your mind away from things."

Marie looked at the bald man in front of her. "How am Ah supposed ta take mah mind away from this?" Her hand motioned backwards to the form lying on the bed before them.

"By going back to school," Xavier held a knowing smile upon his features.

"School? Ah really don't think—"

"Nonsense, school has always proven to be an excellent distraction for the intellectual mind," he still had on the knowing smile and although it held no malice she couldn't help but feel apprehensive.

Marie chewed on her lip, a nervous habit she had never quite grown out of, as she regarded the man sitting before her. "School, Ah don't suppose it's a _normal_ school."

"You would be correct in your assumption."

She sighed. "School, Ah guess Ah could try it."

Charles's smile never seemed to falter as he began to lead her towards the automatic door. "I'm glad you've chosen to try my school, Marie."

Marie stopped dead. Charles stopped as a result looking back at the girl. "Is something wrong dear?"

She was chewing her lip again. "Yeah, Ah'm not Marie anymore. Would ya mind callin' meh Rogue from now on?"

"If that is what you want, I do not see a problem in it," And then the two of them had walked out of the medical bay, leaving Logan alone in his comatose like state.

And now here she was; sitting in the back of Ms. Munroe's class. She shook her head to clear it of thoughts of Logan. This was supposed to be distracting her. She focused on what her instructor was teaching, but only managed to notice things about her teacher. Ororo Munroe, also called Storm was the white haired woman she had met while being picked up in the plane they called, the Blackbird. The chocolate of her skin tone and the azure colored eyes she held complimented her snowy hair. If she didn't know any better she would have thought that the woman was a goddess.

She shook her head again. This wasn't helping her at all. If anything it was encouraging her mind to wander and thus go back to the med lab and Logan. School. She hadn't been in school for months, and it felt foreign to her. Even in as different a setting as her past school, as this one was. It didn't matter that this wasn't a public school where you were shunned for being different from the norm of that town. It didn't matter that her fellow classmates fell in the same mutant boat that she did. It was school, and it was like crawling to her. The knowledge was always present in her mind yet she didn't want to have to digress back to that stage. And yet here she was. School.

Marie had slipped absentmindedly into a seat, half expecting someone to come up and tell her that was _their_ seat. But no one did, they all just filled in around her. One person to her left was a perky short haired brunette girl who seemed to have an unhealthy passion with the color pink but diluted it with a soft baby blue jacket. It gave off a girlish innocence that Marie wished she, herself still possessed. Next to the brunette, and to the left of Marie, was an Asian girl with sleek black hair. She wore a yellow jacket over a simple black shirt with sunglasses planted on the top of her head and cracked her gum every so often. She only seemed to be half paying her attention to the perky girl on her left.

At the table to the right of Marie sat a blond, almost dirty blond, haired boy with blue eyes wearing what appeared to be a blue plaid over shirt. She noticed he kept sneaking glances over at her and she subconsciously tugged the gloves on her fingers a little tighter. And then the more shaggy blond haired boy with a long sleeved red shirt that sat in the table directly ahead of her would look back at the blue eyed boy and then at her. She felt like she was in some twisted unspoken tug of war game with the two of them. Each sneaking glances at her and then glances at each other. It was down right infuriating to say the least.

The red shirted boy was the first to make a move as he slowly took a lighter from his pocket and brought both hands behind his back. He ignited the lighter as if it was intimately a part of his hand. And then a ball of fire stood suspended a few inches away from his hand. He looked back to see if she was looking, and he wasn't disappointed. Even the two girls sitting next to her were looking on curiously.

Marie was stunned. How could he do that? He wasn't getting burned or yelling from the heat. He was holding the fire, holding it in the palm of his hand. It was amazing. Whatever his power was, she wished she had something like that instead of her curse.

Apparently though, the boy to her right wasn't deterred so easily. He outstretched his right hand and a stream of cold mist flowed into the room and settled around the fire ball, until it was frozen solid. This shocked the boy in the red shirt into dropping what had previously been the fire ball. It smashed on the ground as the boy stopped slouching in his chair.

Ms. Munroe looked back sternly, "John," she warned.

So that was his name. John. It didn't seem to fit his personality; except she didn't actually know him, so why would that matter at all. John looked back to glare at the other boy before slouching in his chair again, to presumably sulk.

The boy to her right reached over to her desk and made a small dome with his hand. He lifted it after a few seconds to reveal a flower, a rose, made out of ice. He gave her a smile before saying, "I'm Bobby. Welcome to Mutant High."

And that was that; her first _real_ acquaintance with the student body of Xavier's, and certainly not her last. Bobby. The boy with the icy blue eyes; who seemed to try and make up for his friends behavior. John. A teen with a certain twang to his twitch and the unmistakable Zippo ever clicking in his hands. Kitty. A perky brunette with a seemingly detrimental love affair to the color pink, and an aptitude for filling uncomfortable silences. Jubilee. Yellow jacketed Asian who crackled her gum with the same indifference she showed to an algebra problem. Piotr. A fellow connoisseur of literature and static Russian teddy bear. Friends, mutants, comrades. Anyway someone set the pieces they were all connected around the school and around the auburn haired girl.

---

It was that first stay at Xavier's that she told people her name was Marie. _Marie_, she hated to hear that name now. It was weak; it was from when _she_ was weak. And if there was one thing Rogue hated to be, it was weak. She hated having others watch over her and protecting her. Of course she made the exception for Logan. He wouldn't stop looking out for her if she asked him to. She was given the mutant power to have untouchable skin, there was no way anyone could really harm her if she didn't allow it. That was over now. She was better now, she was normal.

If there hadn't been bile in her throat at the thought of being back at the mansion it was there now. How many of her fellows would resent her for that one act? How many would try to condemn her? Not that she would have chosen a different path; she would have done the same thing willingly. Life would be better this way, this way she could touch any single person she chose too. And they would stay conscious.

"Shit," she muttered her palm warming the metallic knob beneath it. It was smooth. Rogue brought her hand to her face and lightly sniffed it, noticing the definite brass and copper appeal radiating from it. It brought a smile to her face, reassuring her that she had made the right choice. She turned the handle and walked into her room to deposit her pack on the table closest to the window. Simple stitched canvas was emptied of its contents rather quickly as she rearranged them to her liking.

Rogue walked over to the mirror and took a good long stare. Nothing about her was different. Her green eyes were still shining, her auburn hair was presently cooperating in straightened strands with an exception to her the two framing platinum portions. She still seemed gaunt to her perceptive eyes but that hadn't changed since her days of hitchhiking. Her body just refused to gain mass in anything but muscles from constant workouts—Danger Room or otherwise. She ran her fingers through her hair lazily taking a deep inhalation of breath as she did. She was still Rogue.

A Rogue who could touch nonetheless. She shook her head lightly and stepped away from the mirror. She decided a change of clothes would be welcome. Really it turned out to be a change of shirts, she removed her many layers to don a brown tank top. She walked around to the other side of her room, nearest the door and ran her toe quite forcefully into one of the idle chairs in her room.

"Dear lord!" Rogue exclaimed in a semi-hushed tone as she hopped on one foot trying to shake the pain from her appendage. She silently went through a string of curses in her head and she gave the chair a heated look hoping it would just explode. She had finally been able to stand on two feet again when her gaze tore to the creaking of the door opening.

And then she was barreled into and straight onto the bed behind her. All she saw was a blur of black hair and the exclamation of "Chica!" from her assailant. Of course that narrowed the possibilities down to the one and only Jubilee.

Jubilee caught her southern friend up in a fierce hug. "You're back!"

"Jubes," Rogue gasped, "Ya cuttin' off mah air supply."

The Asian girl sat back so that she was no longer smothering Rogue. "You have got some major dishing to do, Woguey."

Rogue scowled at the hated nickname. "Dishing on what?" she inquired with a quirked eyebrow.

Rolling her eyes, Jubilee favored Rogue with a hardened look as she absentmindedly cracked her gum. "Oh, I think you know what," the girl stated matter of factly.

The green-eyed girl was saved from answering when Kitty literally walked through the wall and into the room. "Hey Jubes what are yo—ROGUE!" And Rogue was trapped in a bear hug for what seemed like the millionth time that day, and she knew it wouldn't be the last either.

"Like, what are you doing here? Not that I'm not glad to see you or anything it's just that, like, we—"

"Kitty, breathe," Rogue instructed lightly removing the lighter girl from on top of her to move next to her on the bed. It was getting quite crowded with the three of them.

"You have perfect timing, Kit-kat. Rogue was just getting to the juicy details," Jubes pointed out while leaning back and cracking her bubblegum.

Again Rogue was forced to scowl at the girl. What was there for her to possibly dish on? She hadn't even been gone that long; it was just that when any of them was not present in the mansion for more than a four hour period the others felt like they had lost a limb. It was a bond that the triad had created the first day they had met in that classroom, the same as John and Bobby and invariably Piotr.

---

After John and Bobby's antics the two girls besides her rolled their eyes and chuckled respectively. The brunette had extended her hand and slid a piece of paper over towards Rogue. _Hi, I'm Kitty. And this is—_

_Jubilee,_ the Asian girl wrote after glancing at the paper before sliding it all the way to Rogue.

_I'm Marie, um Rogue, _She slid the paper back over towards the girls, watching them to gauge their reactions. Kitty seemed curious as a sly smile appeared on her face. Jubilee's rhythm of cracking her gum never faltered but the same smile and speculative gleam appeared in her eye.

_I have a feeling you'll fit in just fine,_ Jubilee wrote in her purple pen. She looked as if she might write more before Kitty tugged the paper from her.

_Sorry about Bobby and John. They are just trying to, like, impress you and everything, _Kitty stated before sliding the paper to the right.

Jubilee stopped it and added, _And failing as usual_.

Rogue suppressed a giggle at the last few lines. _I'll be aware of that in the future. Truthfully though I'm a bit new to this whole, _mutant_ thing._

_You get used to it eventually,_ Jubilee noted truthfully. The whole thing had gotten easier for her after arriving at Xavier's and being among fellow mutants.

_Somehow I highly doubt that,_ Rogue scoffed. _So what are ya'lls powers?_

_Fireworks,_ was Jubilee's one word reply. She would have demonstrated, but Ms. Munroe would be bound to notice that.

_And you Kitty?_

_Phasing, _Kitty replied. She noticed a slightly blank look on Rogue's face and decided she at least _should_ demonstrate her power. She held up her hand and saw the nod of Rogue's head that she was watching. And then she phased her hand through the table.

_Nifty, _Rogue commented.

_It's gotten me out of a, like, pinch or two,_ Kitty admitted.

Jubilee let out a small laugh, _Try seven._

_Shut it Jubes! So Rogue, what's your power?_

Rogue bit her lip. The moment of truth. She had been making idle friendly chatter with these girls hoping to avoid this question by beating them to the punch line. It apparently hadn't worked. _I, um, I do this like sucking thing when I touch someone else's skin. Its like, a fast track on their life's story. I learn everything about them, and they stay in my head. I don't have any control, probably never will, so I can't make skin to skin contact, _She slid the paper back over to the girls.

"What?" Jubilee exclaimed after she read the paper. The whole class turned to look at the trio of females, Ms. Munroe in particular with a scolding look. John and Bobby had looked between the girls utterly confused, but then again they weren't usually that perceptive. "Sorry," she muttered apologizing.

Everyone turned back in their seats to have the lesson continue. Rogue though had sunken lower in her chair. It was out now; they would know what a freak she was. The girls that were almost forming a friendship with her were going to hate her, fear her, and resent her because she was a parasite. She was silently wishing she had never agreed to come to this class and had just stayed in the med lab with Logan when a paper was slid across to her.

Rogue stared down at the two messages scribbled on the dead tree.

_That, like, totally sucks. But I have to say, you take the whole covering up everything really well. I would never be able to keep all of my skin covered and still look as good as you do._

_Chica, anyone ever tell you, that you would make an excellent spy. Especially with a name like Rogue. Ow, Kitty that hurt. Anyway, you want to grab a burger after class?_

Rogue looked at the two girls and scribed a quick, _Thanks, I'd love to, _before turning back to the lesson and biting her lip to stop the tears from leaking over the rims of her eyes. She was glad she wasn't talking aloud; otherwise her voice would have surely trembled and betrayed her. She had _friends_, who accepted her and her mutation. Maybe Xavier's was the right place for her to stay.

---

"Jubes, Ah told ya. Ah don't know what you want meh to dish on," Rogue sighed finally retracting her thoughts from the mists of the past.

"Well, like, where did you run off to?" Kitty switched her position on the mattress to lie on her stomach.

Rogue bit her lip, as was her nervous habit. "Ah went to get the 'Cure'."

"And…did you?" Jubilee asked the previously unasked question.

In response Rogue moved to take Jubilee's hand in her own bare one. "That settle the question for ya?"

Kitty stared at Rogue and noticed her exposed arms due to the tank top she was wearing. The way that both she and Jubilee had greeted would have normally rendered them both unconscious rather quickly if Rogue had still possessed her powers. Kitty rolled unto her back and brought her hand to her forehead. "Duh, you, like, would have never worn a tank top by itself otherwise. I feel so, like, observant."

"I'm glad you're happy Rogue," Jubes started, "you are happy with this right?"

Rogue smiled, genuinely. "Yeah, Ah'm right as rain with this here 'Cure'. Now that line, that was another thing entirely."

"You were never really known for your patience, sweetie," Kitty pointed out bluntly.

"Naturally Ah had some _distractions_," Rogue commented dryly thinking back to the 'Cure' line. To when she had been standing there hoping that things would pick up in pace a little. And then she had spotted John and Bobby among the mutants protesting the 'Cure' across the street. Of course that was when the damned Cajun showed up. "Stupid swamp rat," she muttered darkly. If she ever got her hands on that man again…

"What was that?" Jubilee's ears never really failed her. "Stupid swamp rat? I think we deserve an explanation young lady."

"Yes, _mom_," Rogue sneered. "It was nothing just a guy."

Rogue instantly regretted letting those words leave her mouth, but of course the brain thinks faster than the mouth can talk. So it often will say the thought that it can grab on to, whether a person wants it or not. Two sets of eyes livened and she was sure that their ears were perked up like a dog's when they glimpse a leash.

"Guy?" Kitty and Jubilee chorused their voices pitching higher at the end of that one syllable word.

"Ugh."

"Chica, you better be explaining before we gotta use our feminine wiles against you," Jubilee threatened with a half serious half light hearted tone.

The auburn haired girl looked between her two friends. "Do Ah really have ta?"

"Yes!" the two girls exclaimed in unison once again.

"Fine," Rogue consented, she knew from experience that one did not deny Kitty or Jubilee potential gossip if you did not want to be annoyed every single second of your life there after. "So Ah was there, at the 'Cure' line, which was movin' like a snail in molasses, and Ah saw Bobby show up."

"You saw Bobby? He said he couldn't find you," Kitty looked concerned. Her face held traces of guilt she was trying to hide. She hadn't had a chance to talk to Rogue alone yet.

"_Ah_ saw Bobby _and_ John," Rogue corrected. She held a finger when Jubilee looked like she wanted to interrupt at the mention of John. "Ah knew why Bobby was there, he would have stopped meh. So Ah just hide behind some woman in line, and Ah saw John and Bobby talking. Ah heard a bunch o' it too. Right when Ah was about to clock that pyromaniac some moronic Cajun stopped meh."

"That's all?" Jubilee asked doubting her friend was telling the whole truth. She wouldn't have spoken about him with such venom if he had merely stopped her from pummeling John or Bobby. God knows Kitty and Jubilee had had to stop her from the same thing several times in the past.

Rogue visibly fidgeted by looking down at her hands which were trying to keep themselves occupied with one another. "That's all that happened."

"Liar!" Kitty exclaimed rolling back on to her stomach and pointing an accusatory finger at Rogue.

"Ah am not!" Rogue protested shocked at the Illinois girl's outburst. "'Sides ya a horrible liar, how would ya be able ta tell who is lying an' who isn't?"

"Like, duh. You were totally fidgeting and avoiding eye contact. Major liar signs, really bad liar signs too," the brunette pointed out.

Rogue's protest was drowned out by Jubilee who fixed her friend with a pointed stare. "Rogue, Chica, you are telling Kit and I the whole story this time."

"Gawd, Ah hate ya two sometimes," Rogue laid back against her pillows.

"We know, now continue please," Jubilee ordered.

Rogue stuck her tongue out at the Asian girl. "Alright, so Ah talked with him a little bit. And then he said that he had helped meh so Ah should help him. Ah told him he didn't really help me and then it continued from there…and then he left."

The two other girls present looked at her with a mistrusting look. "No," Kitty began,"something else happened before he left. What was it?"

"You two won't give a gal a break will ya?"

"Not likely," Jubilee supplied, cracking her ever present gum.

_Ah was hoping Ah wouldn't have ta tell this part,_ Rogue thought wistfully. She groaned and covered her face with her hands and told them the part she had been omitting.

All her friends heard were muffled mutterings. "I'm sorry, we didn't hear you."

"Ugh, Ah said he kissed meh," Rogue restated, peaking in between her fingers to gauge their reactions. What she saw was priceless. Both of their mouths reached the floor.

"What!" Kitty screeched, but not in an angry tone. "Did you, like, absorb him then?"

Rogue bit her lip, "Actually no."

"So then you didn't get the 'Cure' at all, and you gained control?" Jubilee asked excitedly. She was thrilled by that fact that her southern friend might have finally gained control over her mutation, and getting kissed in the meantime wasn't all that bad of a deal.

"That's what Ah started ta think, but then," Rogue began to tell the two what had happened after the Cajun had left her in the line.

**---**

Rogue had been in line for perhaps fifteen minutes after the red eyed man had left and she had just finally gotten all of her psyches to calm down relatively. Kitty and Jubilee in particular were extremely adamant in a desire to race after that Cajun. It was quiet enough in her mind now that she could begin to process everything that had just happened to her. He had touched her, really touched her and not gotten hurt.

"Oh mah Gawd," she whispered. She could have finally gained control, after so long. After absorbing so many people and hurting others, she would be in control of her skin and of her mutation. She took one of her gloves and stuffed it in her pocket marveling the feel of a breeze against her exposed skin. Rogue couldn't help but suppress the smile that appeared on her face.

"What are you smiling about?" demanded a masculine voice asked from behind her.

Rogue whirled around to face three hostile looking mutants. The one who had spoken to her was an Asian male. He wore a designed tee with two layers over it; a leather vest being the outmost layer. Rogue who was forced to wear layers to cover all of her skin never fully understood why someone would do that by choice. He was maybe the same height as her or perhaps shorter with a thin layer of black hair covering his skull. What caught her attention was the three pronged tattoo underneath his lower lip and one that look like it was an accompaniment from his neck to down his collarbone.

Next to him was a woman that looked masculine, due more to her hair style than anything else. Her hair was slicked back with so much gel that the little curled pig tail practically stuck to her forehead. She possessed a distinctive tattoo on the right side of her neck. She wore a strapless black bra with a large holed fishnet shirt over it and covering her stomach, although displaying the piercing of her belly button. She wore a dirty looking diagonally striped leather jacket over everything. One thing that Rogue noticed though was the purple gloves she wore on her hands.

The last woman bore no visible tattoos like the others did. Although she had obvious oriental ancestry, parts of her raven hair were dyed purple. She wore a simple forest green tank with a leather corset around her waist with straps to secure it under her arms. She stood out less for her clothing and more for her hair. Rogue personally thought the three of them looked punks trying to be military.

Rogue turned her eyes back to the instigator of the question. "Its none of ya damn business now is it?"

"Leave the traitor alone Quill," the purple haired woman commented dryly. She looked as if she would rather be anywhere then where she was currently. "Being around this place gives is giving me bad vibes."

"Shut up Revanche, no one was talking to you," Quill snarled he looked back at the 'Cure' line full of pathetic mutants willing to give up their powers to be mere homo sapiens. Magneto would take care of the homo sapiens soon enough and they would never know what they were missing out on.

"Quill, Revanche would you both be quiet. We are here to on Magneto's orders. We should actually try to follow them," Arclight suggested with an unpleasant sneer on her face.

Rogue's ears perked up at hearing the name of the man who had tried to kill her for the advancement of mutant kind. He had had many grand schemes for mutants already, and they had all failed. This one would most likely due the same. She had to suppress a chuckle at the thought of what these three would do once they saw the Great Metal head's plan's fall down around him in perfectly organized chaos.

"What are you laughing at?" demanded the ever egocentric Quill.

Rogue tilted her head to the side as she smirked at the trio. "The fact that ya'll work for Magneto," she replied smoothly.

"You shouldn't say his name traitor. At least he's using his powers to help our kind instead of getting rid of them like you are," Quill spat towards the Southern mutant.

Her blood boiled, "Don't ya _dare_ say that bastard is better than meh. Ya don't know what he's done ta me, and ya don't know what mah powers are," Rogue stalked towards the Asian male as his companions looked on in amusement, they had in fact been itching to smack him for a while now because of his cocky attitude. Why stop the girl that was most likely going to do that? Rogue brought her bare hand to his face, "So get off ya high horse," and she touched his face.

A part of Rogue was sincerely wishing that it wouldn't work, that she wouldn't absorb him at all. But when has that ever happened? The control that she had covertly possessed a few moments before was shattered as she felt herself melt into him. She heard thousands of thoughts; saw millions of memories, faces of people she didn't know, places she had never seen. It was all in her head, he was in her head. She had had control, and then she lost it. It was gone, for those few glorious minutes it had been there, and now it was gone.

She released Quill and he fell to the ground severely winded but still conscious. Rogue activated his power as thin porcupine quills emitted from her hand. She withdrew the quills as quickly as she saw the astonished and horrified look on their faces. "Try learnin' some manners sugah or someone will teach ya a lesson worse than what Ah just did," Rogue stalked away from the sprawled form of Quill and the two women standing on the sides of him. The mutants in the 'Cure' line gladly allowed her back to her place after praying witness to that display.

Rogue put her glove back on, as she stood confidently in line, daring anyone to challenge her again. In truth the exterior was just a façade; a well practiced one at that. Inside she was dying, dying because she had lost her control; if it was ever there at all. She took a shaky breath, the only sign of her true feelings.

---

The stripe haired girl looked to her two friends. Jubilee and Kitty looked to each other before launching themselves at Rogue and smothering her in a group hug.

"I'm sorry Rogue," they both chorused empathetically.

Rogue smiled softly, "It's alight. Will ya'll get off o' meh! Ah'm gunna suffocate."

Jubilee laughed before her face became serious again. "So then, if you absorbed the cocky boy why didn't you absorb the Cajun?"

"Ah honestly don't know," Rogue was still baffled by that aspect of everything. "Maybe he's got something like Petey in his metallic form." The mansion had discovered that Rogue could not absorb Piotr when he was fully covered in metal; due to the fact that metal was not an organic substance.

"Alright, well why didn't you, like, run after him after he kissed you?" Kitty demanded, earning a satisfied nod from Jubilee.

"Don't worry, ya both were tellin' meh to go give him a few more smacks, 'cause ya thought he was gorgeous or something."

The digital clock on Rogue's nightstand beeped twice to signal to arrival of another hour. Jubilee glanced over at it and swore. "I gotta go chicas, Logan's going to kill me if I'm late again," she explained.

"Don't worry we'll catch you afterwards," Kitty assured the oriental girl before she sprinted from the room.

Jubilees head popped through the doorway again, "And don't think I don't want detail on this gorgeous hunk of a man," she looked straight at Rogue who only groaned in return.

Kitty laughed before looking over at her friend and quieting down again. They were finally alone, and she would be able to talk with Rogue about what had happened. "Rogue, I-I, like, need to talk with you."

Rogue sensed the change in attitude of her friend and sat up. In truth she was a little angry with Kitty about seeing her ice skate with Bobby, although she blamed Bobby more than Kitty. "What's on yahre mind sugah?"

"Um, well lately…Ugh. Never mind, I'll get straight too it. You remember the other day when we found out that the Professor died?" Kitty looked at Rogue who nodded. "Well, I was in my room crying and then Bobby came in. We talked about how I was homesick and then I mentioned how I missed the first snow back home. He saw my skates and took me outside and froze the pond over so we could go ice skating. It was really fun, I thought he was just being a great friend, since I've know him forever. But then like I was kind of falling and he caught me and then he all of the sudden kissed me. I swear I pulled away right after that, but I can't change that it happened. Are you mad?"

Rogue was a shocked. Yes she had seen them ice skating, and she had been a little jealous, but Bobby had kissed Kitty; Kitty, one of her best friends. "Yeah, Ah'm mad; but not at ya Kit. Ah know ya would never do that. Especially since yah've gotten over yahre crush on Bobby ages before he asked meh out, and now ya got eyes only for our Ruskie."

Kitty threw her arms around Rogue. "Oh my god! I'm so glad you believed me, I, like, thought you wouldn't and then you wouldn't want to be, like, my friend anymore and I would have to deal with Jubes all by myself."

"Ah knew immediately ya weren't lying Kit," Rogue laughed and began to list off the reasons on her fingers. "Firstly ya a terrible liar anyway, secondly ya going for tall, dark and Russian, and then ya never said 'like' once in that whole thing."

"I'm so glad I got that off of my chest. I mean Bobby's been acting weird around me lately, and he's just a good friend to me. So I've been confused, but I never got a chance to talk to you to ask you about it," Kitty explained.

"Don't worry Kitty, Bobby and Ah are just good friends now," Rogue stated.

"What!" the brunette shrieked. "I, like, can't be the reason you two are breaking up!"

Rogue smiled at the younger girl, "Ya not the reason Kit, its just something Ah've been thinkin' about lately. An' Ah'm different than Bobby is, we just don't work. Now why don't ya high tail it so a gal can unpack."

Kitty smiled before giving her friend one last hug. "Jubes and I will be around later," and she phased through the wall, leaving Rogue alone in her room.

- - - - -

Bobby strode down the hallway briskly, having heard that Rogue might be back. When he reached her door to find it open, he knew she was back.

Rogue was sitting on the edge of her bed wearing a green sweater over her brown tank top with jeans to accompany. She still wasn't completely comfortably showing so much skin, so she had decided to ease into the new revelation. She even had a glove on her right hand, because it had become as much of a safety blanket to her as anything else had.

He stopped briefly at the doorway to look at Rogue before simply saying, "Your back," and walking over towards her. Rogue rose from her bed to stand in front of him. Bobby let out a heavy sigh, realizing what this meant; Rogue had gotten the 'Cure', and he hadn't been able to stop her.

Rogue had looked down at the floor as she stood before Bobby. For some reason he could always make her feel ashamed of her actions, except this time it didn't matter. She liked what she had done. She looked up into his icy eyes. "Ah'm sorry," _so much for not being ashamed Rogue_, she thought to herself. "Ah had too."

"This isn't what I wanted," Bobby shook his head lightly.

"Ah know, it's what Ah wanted," her gaze kept flicking to the floor before going back to his face. They both stared at one another for several moments before she reached out her bare left hand to grasp his right one. And for the first time in her life Rogue didn't have to be afraid of human touch. She relished the simple gesture, smiling as she gazed down on their joined hands.

"Rogue—" Bobby began.

Rogue shook her head and looked into his eyes for longer than she had before. "Bobby, Ah didn't do this for you. Ah did it because Ah wanted ta, that's all. And Ah have noticed lately that we've been distant. Ah think that we made better friends than a couple, an' that we should go back ta that."

She had been blunt. She knew that, but she didn't really see the point in dragging out the whole thing saying such things that would likely hurt their friendship further. She had forgiven him mostly for what he had done with Kitty, but a part of her would always be angry with him for it. But she really didn't want to start this new part of her life with anger, especially not when she was so happy currently.

Bobby looked like he wanted to protest what she had just said, but then he let out a long breath. "Okay," he started, "if that's what you want, alright. But I know this is my fault, I just don't know what has been wrong with me lately. And I'm sorry, for everything. For what I did to you and Kitty. I'm sorry."

Rogue offered Bobby a soft smile that he would surely miss being directed only at him. "Ah know ya are Bobby. A part o' meh will always hate you for it, but the rest of meh has already gotten past that. Ah'm a different person now, Ah don't have mah powers looming over mah head forever threatening to kill the next person who touches mah skin. Ya did last for a long time however with the untouchable girl."

He smiled. "Rogue, why are you being so nice to me? I've been acting like a complete ass the last few days if not weeks and here you are being incredible nice to me."

An impish smile appeared on the Southerner's face, "Well, it just so happens that Ah don't want the new _music_ director to be gloomy in his first days."

The Boston native groaned. "You heard then?"

"From the weather witches mouth herself. Robert Drake Ah am so proud of you!" Rogue teased.

"I told my mom I never wanted to play the piano," Bobby retorted with his forehead in his hands.

"Aw, well on the bright side Ah don't think Kitty and Jubes know, _yet_," a mischievous glint appeared in her eye.

Bobby having spent an extended amount of time with Rogue noticed the glint that often ended in misfortune for someone in the mansion. "Don't you _dare_," he warned.

"Ah dare," Rogue exclaimed before bolting from her room and down the corridor in search of Jubilee and Kitty. She was laughing her head off as her ex-boyfriend, full friend Bobby chased after her shouting for her to stop.

Everyone jumped out of Rogue's way as she ran down the hallway to be hotly pursued by Bobby. In the end he finally iced up to catch up and tackle the southerner to the ground, right at the feet of Jubilee and Kitty. Blue and green eyes peered up at the two figures looming over them. One groaned while the other burst into laughter to be joined by her companion. It seemed like things in the mansion were returning to normal with the return of their Southern half.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Alright, I finally pumped this one out. I am going to say again that I am terribly sorry for the delayed update. I've decided to just ignore school entirely from now on…Nah. Tempting as that might be I'll just juggle around it, writing in the spare time I find each day. I tried to make this chapter longer because it was a longer wait. 

_Reviews –_ Thanks for reviewing! I had to agree that Rogue is a kick-ass character and that in a lot of ways the movies don't really do her justice. Danger Room sessions will be interesting. I'm open for any suggestions on it though. I figured that Remy would probably put his message in French, and Logan might teach if asked, but you know he can't appear too soft. And taking his bike away is a surefire way to make him teach. If you ever need more information on character's look at it's a great source for the comic information.

Coming up: Memorial services and midnight confessions and Danger Room ahoy!

Translations:

_Chica __– _Girl, young woman


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER IV**

_The pain is real even if nobody knows  
And I'm cryin' inside  
And nobody knows it but me_

- _Nobody Knows_ by The Tony Rich Project

- - - - -

Fascination is not a thing easily conquered by a person. And it is not easily forgotten. It eats away slowly on self-restraint and causes thoughts to wander back to the object of interest. Often times it would drive a person insane until they reached a point of understanding of the fascination. In fact it did not even have to be a person, as such a thing as this affected animals as well. Every mother and their child has heard the saying, _Curiosity killed the cat_, and how true that statement really is. That is of course what happened to one fateful scientist.

Henry McCoy was an extremely intelligent man. He had acquired an abundance of knowledge through various sources during his life. His mutation had been rather dormant his whole life, only altering his physical perception with large hands and feet along with a bulky muscular frame uncommon among most men. His physical prowess was evident when he lived in Illinois as was his curiosity and intelligence. He grew to be an extremely well read and learned man. His particular passion was for science and of course a love of all things Shakespeare. He had been jeered for his abnormal appearance, but was accepted because of his brilliance. That was until he had an accident.

Every scientist dreams of making the discovery of the millennium; and Hank was no different. Several scientists had obtained a blood sample from the government that was strange indeed. There were extra cells evident in the bloodstream of this specimen. It was with fascination that Hank watched the extra cells mutate the ordinary ones before his very eyes. That was when it had all started, his fascination with mutants and mutations. That one vial of blood and he was hooked.

Hank had taken a small amount of his own blood to verify the difference in the two samples. Shock is a mild way to describe the state he was in when he saw his own blood mutate in the way the specimen had previously. Astonished enough that he had stumbled into what he had succeeded in extracting from the blood sample. Through experiments Hank had discovered the hormonal extract that caused mutations in a genetic structure.

That day he had not been wearing gloves. His hands were riddled with small cuts that happened through various methods, most common through the sharp edges on microscope slides. New cuts developed after he ran into the extract; vials shattering into a million little glass pieces. Henry's hands had gone out to steady him against the table and the broken glass became embedded into his flesh. And then with the newly opened skin the hormonal extract leaked into his bloodstream. It was an accident.

In a normal human the extract would have caused them to become a created mutate rather than a born mutant; in the case of a mutant the extract only mutates their own mutation. Hank witnessed as his irregular hand sprouted hair and turned a vibrant navy tint before he collapsed on the floor as his body transformed. He didn't wake up until two hours later, if he had woken up before an hour after the contact, another dose of the extract could have reversed the effects. Problem was unconsciousness has a way of not paying heed to anyone but itself.

His life after that had been full of rocky slopes and potholes. But many things had shown through from there, notably his meeting with Charles Xavier. It was after that point that Henry's life began to crawl upwards through the deep hole it was burrowed within. He had in the past few years elevated to helping the President in the area of mutants. That was until recently.

Currently he was in the Med Lab of Xavier's school, hanging upside down, reading _Hamlet_. Of course that was until the resident Southern Belle came walked through the automated doors.

"Storm said she wanted meh ta get checked out," Rogue explained, "Just in case."

Hank offered her a smile as he righted himself with a flip. He set down his copy of _Hamlet_ and settled a white lab coat over his regular attire. He instructed Rogue to sit on bed so that he could give her a short physical. There were perhaps five minutes of silence as he took the ordinary measurements before his patient was fed up with the lull of conversation.

"So, Mr. McCoy," Rogue started drawing out the simply phrase, wringing her hands slightly as her mind tried to grasp a subject for them to talk over. Her eyes flitted over to the book her had been reading, _Hamlet_. Then she remembered something 'Ro had said to her.

Before Rogue could proceed with her newfound conversation, Hank decided it would be best to say something first. "Rogue, we are going to be working together. You can call me Hank," he gave her the friendly smile she always seemed to attract from people.

A smile formed on her face as well, "Alright, _Hank_, I hear yah're takin' over the Shakespeare classes for meh."

"Indeed I am my dear," he answered testing the reflex response of her knees. "I presume you will not miss them much. Am I correct?"

"Actually," Rogue couldn't suppress the sly smile that crept into her previous one. "Ah've always been a fan of Shakespeare. But by that looks o' that book, Ah'd say you'll do just fine teachin' it."

McCoy grinned. "One can only hope my students will share the same passion I have for our William's works," he walked over to sit on a rolling stool, where he flipped through the pages of his clipboard.

"Ah wouldn't be _that_ hopeful. The kids might like it, but the homework bites that in the bud," the two toned southerner explained sympathetically.

"One can always dream," Hank sighed. He looked down at his clipboard and back at his patient. "I've got to ask you some routine questions and then take a small blood sample I presume and you'll be done."

"Sounds good to meh," Rogue agreed.

"Do you have any pain, anywhere?"

Rogue shook her head and he continued, "Any runny nose, nausea, dizziness, loss of thought, trouble breathing or seeing, possibly hearing?" Again Rogue shook her head. "And no aching muscles, no tingling anywhere, no fevers, or cold sweats?" Another shake. "Well then, I believe there are no side effects that will be causing you harm. Just so we're clear, nothing hurts, correct? Nothing feels abnormal?"

"Mah arm hurt a tad, but that was because that's where they injected meh. It is gone now though. Otherwise, Ah'm perfectly fine," she explained. Truly she felt better than fine. She felt exhilarated simply for the simple act of being able to touch another person's skin. For once she didn't have to make the doctor wear gloves when they examined her. Touching her skin couldn't hurt them.

"So it seems. I would still like to take a small sample of blood before you leave, my dear. I'm afraid I'm—"

"Overly cautious?" Rogue supplied.

Hank smiled gently, "One could call it that," He took out a needle and attached it to the syringe. "Which arm?" Rogue rolled up the sleeve on her left arm and he tied a length of elastic tubing above the junction at her elbow. He smeared a small amount of lubricant on the flesh above her veins before inserting the needle. He pulled the syringe head out to extract a small amount of the crimson liquid. Hank pulled out the needle from Rogue's arm and emptied the contents into a small vial, labeling it for later use. He turned to see Rogue already rolling down her sleeve.

Rogue slid off of the table-like bed that tended to thrive in infirmaries. "Is that all Mr.—Hank?"

"I believe so, but if you start feeling anything out of the ordinary make sure you come and visit," Hank instructed hoping that Rogue would not feel anything.

"That sounds—" she had been about to say 'great' when someone, no two someone's bumped straight into her. Rogue managed to steady herself with the doorframe as she looked down at the two children.

"Um…Sorry about that Rogue," one of the boys said softly.

"Yeah, we didn't see you there," his friend seemed to be more articulate of the two.

Hank looked over the two, curiously having been forgotten for the time. "How may I help you two gentlemen at this fine hour?"

Both sets of head swiveled back to the doctor and they remembered the reason they were here. The most talkative of the pair glared pointedly at the boy next to him. "Someone thought it would be a good idea to throw a fire ball at me!"

"I did not!" The other boy pleaded looking first at his friend, before turning to appeal to the doctor. "I was practicing! I was _practicing_…and I missed my target."

The flamed boy scoffed. "Sure, only 'cause your target was my head!"

Of course the boy whose fireball it was seemed unimpressed, "You dodged it just fine. It barely got you at all."

"WHAT?! It took a chunk out of my _favorite_ shirt and part of my arm!"

"It did not!" flame boy protested.

"Do you need to see the scorch marks?"

Rogue looked over at Hank with an amused smile. She mouthed the words 'Good Luck' before dashing out of the room. She could hear McCoy sigh heavily while he tried to calm the two males into telling him an accurate account of what happened.

A small vial sat secured inside a rack, among many others of its kind. It was still relatively warm despite the refrigerated environment it was keeping presently. Rich red liquid sloshed back and forth from its glass surface. Written clearly across its surface was 'ROGUE'. It had been without a doubt forgotten.

- - - - -

To Rogue it felt like she had blinked and it was already time for the Memorial Service. Hadn't she just gotten back? Talked with Storm? Talked with Kitty, Jubilee and Bobby? She went to see Dr. McCoy yesterday, right? No, it had been a day since all of that had happened to her. And now it was time for the funeral—the memorial. They had had a funeral for the Professor, still letting their naivety breed hope that Scott was in fact not dead. Now though, they had given up that coveted hope. Everyone at the school had accepted that their golden trio was destroyed and scattered around carelessly away from them.

Unlike the funeral though, Rogue didn't _have_ to be covered from head to toe. Yet out of respect she was, after all they had never known the girl when she wasn't covered with cloth. Ororo walked towards the front of the three monuments, the Professor's on the end with Scott and Jean's on the left side of his. Charles Xavier. That was the inscription on his head stone; monument even; a metallic oval holding the profile of his grandfatherly appearance against the cold stone that surrounded it. Jean's was on the end with Scott's in the middle, a Cyclops between two telepaths. Jean Grey, Scott Summers and a simple circles X. _That_ was all their headstones warranted. Only Jean's held a body.

Rogue sat on the end closest to the monuments in the front. Bobby sat next to her, with Kitty next to him and Piotr next to her. Included were all of the students present and some of the three's old friends. Everything was almost exactly the same as it had been at the Professor's funeral, with a few people not in attendance that had been before. Rogue found she didn't really hear what Ororo said as it melted in with the memory of the other day's funeral eulogy.

---

Ororo stood in front of the assembled body of students, friends and coworkers. They were all present for the passing of Charles Xavier, her mentor. She had to stay strong for the students at the very least. Put on a façade that everything would be all right, when deep down she didn't believe it herself. She stole a deep inhalation of oxygen while looking at the ground before meeting the eyes of those assembled.

"We live in an age of darkness. A world full of fear, hate and intolerance. But in every age there are those who fight against it," A knot found its way in to her stomach and her words seemed lodged in her throat. She had just started and already it was hard for her to speak.

"Charles Xavier was born into a world divided. A world he tried to heal. A mission he never saw accomplished," Storm's voice was cracked with emotion as she visibly inhaled. Several sniffles could be heard through the mass of people in attendance.

"It seems the destiny of great men to see their goals unfulfilled. Charles was more than a leader, more than a teacher, he was a friend. When we were afraid he gave us strength, and when we were alone he gave us family," This was true for her as well. He had been her family along with a few others. And now he was gone. "He may be gone, but his teachings live on through us, his students. Wherever we may go we must carry on his vision, and that's a vision of a world united."

Everyone sat there in silence as the words soaked in through their skin to their souls. Rogue had been the first to walk up slowly to the glassy monument. She bent down to place a single white rose to the left of the burning flame. A symbol that the Professor's dream would always go on, through them, just as Ororo had said.

"Goodbye," she whispered a tiny crack showing through her Southern accent, the evidence of her sorrow.

---

Shaken back into the present she found she couldn't even concentrate on the words her friend was speaking. All she could manage was to look around her and view how everyone else faired. Almost the whole population of the school was in a state of tears and sadness. Only a few seemed unaffected, Rogue was among them.

She had not shed a single tear, yet she felt hollow inside. It was if someone had taken her whole world and crumpled it up, before cutting from it millions of pieces and stepping all over it. She was lost, she was confused, and she was heartbroken at the loss of her three teachers. Yet she didn't show it. Marie might have shown it, but Rogue wouldn't allow it.

Even now without her mutation she still kept her mask up.

That was why she hadn't shed a tear; hadn't broken down into a blubbering mess. Apparently others felt similar to her. Logan again was not in attendance however Rogue had spotted him watching from atop a balcony the same as last time. Piotr was always difficult to read, but they had developed a deep friendship through mutual interests and she knew he would likely grieve through his art. Bobby was holding Kitty's hand, squeezing it now and then at the petite girl would sniffle. He had tried to take Rogue's hand but she just pulled it away with a small smile. Finally Ororo's words began to sink in to her.

"Jean was gone long before these events happened. She truly died at Alkali Lake, but the Phoenix somehow kept her body alive and a small part of her mind stayed. But what hurts more is that the hope that she was back, was yanked away from us again. I do believe Jean lived somewhere in the recess of the Phoenix's mind and was tying to prevent her from destruction but her foe's power was too great. Again Jean sacrificed herself to save us, she was truly the best of us," Ororo practically whispered the last part not trusting her voice. "I will miss her dearly."

"Scott Summers will always be remembered for his love of this school. At times I believe if there wasn't boarding provided here, I have no doubt he would have slept in his study," watery chuckles were emitted through the student body.

Ororo's smile was forced and held little true warmth, but it was a start. "Scott was there no matter what, he had a solution for everything and anything. And it didn't matter to him that his mutation was uncontrollable, he would willingly work years to help another control theirs. That was his nature and he will be missed for it."

"Charles was the glue that held us all together. He made everyone feel accepted and welcome; he gave many of us a family when our own had forsaken us," Storm gave another small smile. She considered everyone here her family; her true family.

"Although handicapped it never stopped him from achieving great things that I can never hope to accomplish. He brought us all together and united under our common genetics and under his dream. His dream will continue as will the school he started."

Storm took a deep breath finding it harder to continue talking. "I—I don't know how things will progress without them all here. But I know I can trust you all to do well to act in their memories. That is all we can really do, live on while keeping their memories alive."

It seemed that Ororo was done for the time. The crowd stood, almost hesitantly, and walked towards the graves. Rogue walked up to stand before the cold marble. Three headstones stared back at her unwavering in their hardened state. She felt a surge of emotion spike through her body. Quickly she turned from what had previously been a garden courtyard but was now a cemetery. A brisk stride carried her from the gathering of students and faculty. Away from the reality of the situation and the torrent of emotions she felt over it.

Her exit did not go unnoticed. The weather witch was preoccupied with consoling other students to go after one she knew would much rather be left alone. A boy with his internal thermometer set to freezing ached to comfort the girl that still held part of his heart. Brunette hair turned catching the sudden movement of her friend's departure. She had begun to follow when a strong weight fell upon her shoulder. Kitty turned to see a chest of hardened muscle covered in a suit coat. She had to crane her head to confirm her suspicion of the owner; Piotr.

"Katya," it was the Russian's name for her, "I think zat she wants to be alone."

Kitty stared up, as he was easily a foot taller than she was. Hazel met indigo eyes as she let out a small sigh. Her body relaxed under his hand, which was still firmly place on her shoulder. "I suppose you're right," she conceded. She gave one last look at the direction Rogue had taken before letting Piotr steer her in the opposite direction.

Burning coals of a cigar met the stone of the balcony's railing. Giving one last glance at the proceedings down below the figure strode in through the double doors to find something among the mansion.

- - - - -

Rogue had gone to her room and changed. Gone were the black clothes honoring her lost teachers. The heels had been removed along with the nylons. She inspected herself in the mirror as she zipped up her leather suit, the one with the small green X on the belt slung carelessly around her hips. Of course she didn't have to wear this anymore; she could wear whatever, as she no longer had her powers to hinder her. Yet the leather was comforting to her. It was like a child's favorite blanket wrapped around them the first time they sleep without a night-light. It was protection, security and a sense of familiarity she felt she needed.

She doubled over to collect all of her auburn and white hair into a bundle, to be secured against her skull in a tight ponytail. Rogue ran her hands over the surface of her hair several times, barely skimming the plane. She still looked the same. In her uniform she could almost believe she still was an X-man with her powers; the ones she loathed and missed at the same time. The ones that made her belong here.

Why is it that she felt more isolated now that she could touch than when she couldn't? Sure she was the human among the evolved. But shouldn't she be treated better than when she was the freak among freaks?

Rogue whirled around and slammed her fist into the wall next to her mirror.

She couldn't help the self-loathing at herself for taking the cure. Ordinarily she would never have been allowed within forty feet of cure building, but after Alkali Lake things changed. Xavier tried his best, to alleviate his focus from choice students to spread his influence. She couldn't, and wouldn't fault him for that. Scott had withdrawn, barely spending time with the rest of them, although sometimes he would come to the library when Piotr and Rogue were there, they just sat there in companionable silence. He really couldn't' be allowed to look after anyone but himself.

Logan, well he looked out for her in a danger sense. But he didn't see the 'Cure' as dangerous so he didn't stop her, probably because he never thought she would go through with it. Ororo was trying to fill a gap that Jean had left, but even she knew it was in vain. And Jean, Jean would have sensed the spike in her spirit and sat down with her to talk it over.

In the end, Logan had seen her but hadn't prevented her. Bobby had shown up; maybe more out of guilt and obligation that anything else. But she could, and did hide easily from Bobby. With more of the adults' eyes on her she would have been stopped. She would still be in possession of powers she hated and she would be accepted in the comradery of mutancy.

Now though, she was human. A baseline. She hadn't made the decision for a boy. Hell no. She had made it for herself. She was called Rogue after all. She looked out for herself, first and foremost. That was exactly why she needed to be watched, so she didn't make an idiotic mistake by getting rid of the reason for bringing her to the closet thing to belonging she had ever known. And that saying that you won't miss something until it's gone; she knew the meaning of that now.

She glanced in here mirror again. _Get a grip, girl,_ she thought to herself sternly. She had taken the 'Cure', she was rid of her curse, she was normal, and she couldn't get her mutation back. Suck it up and deal. It was better this way in the end.

Taking a steadying breath Rogue walked away from her mirror and out of her room. It was only a few minutes before she arrived at the set of chrome doors sealed with a giant X. She put her thumb to the scanner and waited for it to flash a green in confirmation before proceeding into the enormous metal room. It had been made from the same substance that lined Wolverine's skeleton; adamantium.

Supposedly it had begun simply as a room filled with traps, firing devices that released various projectiles, presses, collapsing walls and other such mechanical dangers that could be used to train students. Those not in the room could observe what was going on through the control booth, while making sure the one inside was not seriously injured in any way, shape or form. Of course there had been upgrades. Moria, Erik and Charles had worked together to improve the training room, with the suggestion of the schools first students.

Now the polished room supported holographic technology that is extremely believable once inside the complex. The reality of everything when running a simulation is often astounding to someone who enters it for the first time. That is, until something comes their way to fight. It has thousands of programs that anyone in the mansion could create at any time to their liking; seeing as each person trained on a different level, this was often the best was to train.

"Hello Rogue," a female voice greeted the stripe haired girl.

"Hey Danger," Rogue offered a small smile. She always thought she should greet the Danger Room as it greeted her and everyone else each time they entered. "Simulation Rogue 2974, please."

"Initializing simulation Rogue 2974. _Warning_, this simulation is highly dangerous and should not be initiated without supervision. Permanent damage and injuries can result," as usual the female voice paused incase something needed to be changed. "Program Rogue 2974 download."

The lights dimmed around her, when they came back the scenery about her had changed. Gone were the metallic walls, replaced with a dark system of alleyways. This was one of her personal favorites for simulations, as she had created it herself. It was to discourage the use of mutant abilities and the objective was to fight against the thugs you were presented with. Unlike the normal sims where the program would end once the objective was reached, this one was a learning procedure. The thugs came back in different forms, from simple bar drunks to trained professionals. And they would learn from the others mistakes, encouraging the trainee to branch outside their comfort zone and think up new ways to overcome the enemy.

Rogue walked slowly down the street, which was illuminated by a broken street lamp, which kept crackling and fizzing. She looked around her and noticed the various bags of garbage lining the sides of the alley to her left. She looked over her shoulder but saw nothing. And then she heard the crunching of gravel from behind her. She kept walking idly hearing the crunching increase. Then she heard sobbing.

Veering to her right she entered an alley to find a woman sprawled on the ground, her clothes torn apart and the contents of her purse overturned. The woman looked up to spy Rogue and let out a relieved sob. Rogue bent down to her, laying a hand on the woman's shoulder. "It'll be alright."

The woman looked up and scrambled backwards, seemingly away from Rogue. "Actually, it won't be," a harsh voice came from behind Rogue, towards the entrance to the alley. Three men stood at the exit from the dead end each looking at the two women lecherously.

"Delighted you joined usss pet," one of the men slurred in his inebriated state. It became clear to Rogue that they had been in the process of robbing and raping the woman when one of them had spotted her and decided to add another to the crime. In an ordinary situation this wouldn't have mattered when she had her powers, no one could touch her then.

Rogue stood up, giving the sobbing woman a reassured smile, she faced the three men. "Ya want it fellas, come and get it." And they did.

They stalked closer to her, and as they did she could smell the stench of alcohol from their breath. Rogue took their slow procession as time to analyze her surroundings. Garbage bags lined the alley much like the other one she had seen. A few dumpsters were placed along the wall and the one closest to her held a loose piece of metal piping sticking out. She waited a few agonizing moments until they had almost reached her before she lunged and grasped the pipe pulling it from the dumpster.

A whoosh of air cut through the air as Rogue twirled the pipe around her wrist, bringing it forward. The thugs seemed apprehensive about her now having a weapon. She didn't give them enough time to react as she swung the pipe into the stomach of the man nearest her, causing him to double over in pain. She didn't waste time hitting another one in the back of the knees and then on the back. She ended up kicking him over onto the ground, where he was knocked unconscious.

The Southerner appraised the last one standing. She moved to hit him near the sternum but he shifted and she clipped his arm instead. She spun and was planning to clock the guy when her ankle was ripped from underneath her. The first man she had knocked out had crawled over to trip her. She kicked him in the head, causing it to snap back into the side of the dumpster.

A firm grip caught her arm and hauled her to her feet. "You're going to regret that bitch," the last man standing sneered.

Rogue was breathing a little heavily, but pacing herself enough that she wasn't winded. "Don't think Ah will," she retorted before squatting down to sweep his feet from under him. As he fell she stood back up and swung the pipe down on his ribs. He grunted in pain. She bent down to whisper in his ear, "Good night," before hitting him on the head.

Having reached her supposed objective of stopping whatever situation the villains had cooked up she walked back to the sniveling woman. Rogue bent down and tried to comfort the woman. She always found it easier to think of the people in simulations as human than robots. That was of course until the so-called victim she was helping extended her heeled foot and kicked Rogue backwards.

The woman stood up and adjusted her clothes to be more suitable while waiting for Rogue to stand up. She was already in a fighting stance.

Rogue on the other hand was cursing herself for leaving the pipe by the last thug. She swung herself upwards before aiming a punch at the woman, who dodged it. Rogue tried a few more punches and some kicks but the woman blocked them just as she blocked hers. Frustrated Rogue turned from the alley and broke into a run.

She heard the click of heels as the woman followed her. Rogue slowed slightly to make sure the woman would be within range. Then she ran straight for the street light, grasping unto the poll and using her momentum to swing her legs around and slam them into the woman's stomach. They both fell over and rolled, ending up with Rogue straddling the woman's waist. Rogue wasted no time in landing a few punches on the woman's face. She stopped when the woman stopped resisting and her body went lax.

Standing up she wiped away the dirt from her uniform before heading down the street again, which was giving way to a more brightly lit area. That was until everything stopped and the room turned metallic again.

"Program halted, new companion arriving," the Danger Room's voice announced.

Rogue glared at the doorway, annoyed with whoever walked through the set of doors. She smelled cigar smoke and identified the intruder as Logan. Her glare annoyance only intensified.

"Logan, go away," she growled.

He ignored her. "Was watchin' from above Stripes. You got sloppy at the end."

She rolled her eyes. "Ah'll keep that in mind, now want ta leave so Ah can finish this?"

"It's dangerous to have someone in here without anyone on the Observation Deck," Logan commented offhandly as he took another drag of his cigar.

"Ah know the rules Logan, Ah choose to ignore them. 'Sides Danger wouldn't let me get hurt," Rogue smirked. She knew how to handle herself in here, especially in her own program. Logan knew this, he wanted something.

He raised an eyebrow.

She decided to take that as encouragement. "Ah was getting bored on mah own. How's 'bout you join? Everyone is going ta be moping today anyway."

Logan looked at her for a second before giving a small smile. "What program you runnin'?"

"Rogue 2974."

"Who pissed you off?" he asked casually.

"That's a loaded question," she retorted, grinning back at him. "Danger, simulation Rogue 2974 commence."

"Program reload," the female voice stated. "Complete."

The room shifted to a vibrant city of lights and sounds. It looked New York had exploded in the Danger Room. Taxis and cars sped fast the sidewalk they started at. Flashing neon lights came from every way possible. Vendors yelled out their wares while people just screamed, sang or cheered contributing to the insane madness found in the city life. Logan made a grunt of disproval at all of the lights and noise, obviously placed there to offset his enhanced sense. The pair walked casually down the busy street looking for the source of the trouble they were supposed to prevent. Minutes later they heard an alarm coming from a museum not far off.

"No powers, remember," Rogue reminded her fellow rebel.

Logan gave her a look that clearly told her he remembered. "Don't need powers to fight darlin'."

"That includes claws."

He rolled his eyes. "What next? No healing factor?" He had stopped to look down at her.

"That's a power sugah," Rogue pointed out, with her hands placed on her hips.

Logan's hand shot out to shove her backwards before he started walking towards the museum again. "Deal with it."

She made a noise of indignation before running to catch up with him. "Hey! Just whose program do you think this is?!" Logan was paying her no notice though as he kept a course for the museum.

- - - - -

Rogue and Logan had spent a few hours in the Danger Room with Rogue's simulation. That was the beauty of a program that learned from its mistakes, you never got bored with it, it just kept learning. Of course that also meant you never achieved the warm tingly feeling of having completed a mission successfully. The way she viewed it though, was completing several.

The pair of them had missed dinner due to their impromptu Danger Room session. The result was Rogue collapsing on her bed after a quick shower with no dinner at all. Personally she was too tired to even think about eating food, let alone going all the way down to the kitchen for it. She had lain down on her bed and closed her eyes and almost instantly fell into a slumber brought on by physical excursion.

Her sleep had been peaceful at first. And then the dreamlessness shifted.

_She was standing outside a tall chain link fence, the gates directly in front of her. She could see boys her age working in the mud as the rain poured down around them. A yellow star was prominent among their somber clothing. She surged forward with the crowd around her. She knew some people in the crowd, but wouldn't shout out to them. She looked back over her shoulder at her parents and her father placed her hand on her shoulder in support. They continued walking forwards. That was until soldier tried to part her from her parents. She fought and screamed._

_Her eyes opened. She was in a glass tube surrounded by gel-like liquid that gave off a green hue. Numerous sensors were connected around her body. She tried to move but her hands were secured in handcuffs chained to the bottom of the tube. A rage she'd never known filled her head, an animalistic fury. She went berserk. Claws of metal appeared from her hands and slashed through the chains securing her hands. She tried to scream from the pain these _thing_s_ _were creating in her body, but an oxygen mask covered her face. Her claws cut through the glass tube and she ripped off her oxygen mask. She stepped onto the broken glass and this time her cry came through._

_It was so sudden. They had been sitting in the living room together when everything turned bright. The next thing she knew there was screaming and she was in a hole. She could barely see any sunlight it was so dark. She was trapped. She was trapped here, under the rubble of her old house, buried with the bodies of her parents; the bruised, broken and bloodied bodies of her parents. She was stuck here until someone found her, _if _someone found here. Looking around her she could feel the darkness creeping closer to her. She scuttled closer to her thin stream of light. The light was growing dimmer, and the darkness was getting nearer. The walls around her were getting smaller and smaller around her. She let a fresh set of sobs rack her body as she rocked back and forth._

_They were falling, and falling fast. Something had happened to their plane; mechanical failure was what her father had said. It was hard to tell when the air was whipping past them loudly. There was only one parachute on board. There should have been more, but there wasn't. Her parents came over and hugged her and her little brother. They told them how much they loved them and that everything would be all right. She didn't believe them, she wanted to, but she didn't. There wasn't time for more before the one parachute was fastened around herself and her brother. And then with a parting smile, they were pushed out the door. It didn't matter though, the plane caught fire and a spark hit the parachute. It caught fire, and then her brother fell. And all she could do was yell over the torrent of the wind. _

_Why didn't she cry out? Why didn't she tell her the car was coming? Because she was a moron, that's why. She had stood there near the curb and watched in stunned horror as her best friend was hit by a car; a car that she had seen coming but hadn't warned her friend about. And now she was in the middle of the street, cradling her ten-year-old friend's small head of hair. The driver was contrite, not believing he really just hit a little girl. But he did, and she was dying, the ambulance wouldn't come here in time. She could feel the tears stream down her face as she tried to tell her friend how much she loved her and was sorry. And then her body was on fire in a million different places. It hurt so bad she wished she would die just to stop the pain. She couldn't even remember how to use her mouth to scream. Something had hit her, and hit her hard. But her friend was all right, that's what mattered. She couldn't feel her anything in her body, and her chest felt so heavy. The air was getting harder to grasp. And then everything went black._

Rogue's eyes snapped open. Her breathing had haggard and her sheets were soaked with sweat. Automatically she shifted into a defensive position on her bed while scanning the room for an intruder. She found none.

"Ya had a bad dream Rogue," she muttered to herself hoarsely. She felt as if she had been screaming for a prolonged period of time, but she couldn't recollect such a memory. She couldn't even remember her bad dream. No, not a bad dream, a nightmare. One that she could thankfully not remember, otherwise she was sure she would not have the small semblance of calm she felt at the moment.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up shakily. She threw on a jacket before treading softly down to the bathroom. She slipped through the doorway and turned on a stream of icy water, splashing her face. She looked into the mirror, her face illuminated by the moonlight from the small window. She could feel the water dripping down her skin, cooling the warm flesh and enticing a small shiver. Her face though looked tired and worn. She looked older that she should be, she felt older.

Toweling her face dry, Rogue pulled her jacket closer around her frame to ward off the nights chill. There was no way that she would be able to fall back to sleep again. She resigned herself to another of the many sleepless nights she had experienced while she had possession of her powers. Those though were not from dreams or nightmares but from memories, other people's memories that she had stolen from them with her gift.

She shook her head. She needed to stop thinking about her decision; it was over and done with. There was no going back on her actions. Rogue's hands found her pockets as she wandered the mansion idly, with no destination or purpose in mind. She thought about getting something from the kitchen, as she had missed dinner, and set that as her course. She walked onto the tile, her feet making a small pitter-patter against the cold floor. She walked to the refrigerator and opened the door wide; surveying the food inside hoping something would catch her eye. Nothing did. It was the same with the freezer, cupboards and pantry. She settled to opening the fridge again and extracting a bottle of water.

Water in hand she took to wandering again. Somehow the plush carpeting that lined the hallways was irking feet that craved something hard and cold. Rogue peered around her before unlocking a set of French doors off of one of the ground level rooms. She walked out unto the bitter cement pathway, weaving her way through the grounds. Her feet eventually found dewy grass, and she sighed in relief. It was the perfect solution. The grass was wet from the temperature drop at night, and the dew was forming in preparation for morning. Every now and then the breeze would wisp through chilling her condensated feet.

Rogue walked through out the garden paths until she arrived at the spot she had been earlier that day. In front of her stood three headstone, standing still like sentinel soldiers watching over the school. Seeing as that was what the three occupants commonly did in their time at the Institute it was fitting.

When she had first arrived at Xavier's she was the scared little girl that had been rescued by these modern day super heroes. She had met Scott first, not that it really mattered at the time because she was too worried about Logan to be sociable with the people who just rescued them. Well, besides a few introductory words, that is. She had met Jean next in the Med Lab, but had been ushered into another room to wait. It was later that she was sitting in Logan's room that she had _really_ met Scott Summers.

---

Rogue was sitting in a comfortable chair against the wall opposite her ride's medical bed. Logan. That was his name. He shouldn't be here, she shouldn't have been here; it was his fault. She had told him to wear his seatbelt, and he had been saying something about auto mechanics when he was thrown through the windshield. The problem was that he had gotten up from that. He had healed, and then that man, monster, thing came out from the woods and attacked him. He had put up a good fight; he'd been in enough cage fights to know how to hold his own. Only thing was by the time their rescuers arrived he hadn't healed from being thrown into the windshield. That's what frightened her the most; he wasn't getting back up.

She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there. The doctor, Jean Grey had come in a few times to check on him, looked at her with a sad smile and then left. All Rogue did was remain in her chair, seemingly staring at Logan but really she was too lost in her thoughts to see clearly anymore.

"Jean?"

And her reverie was broken.

A man maybe roughly three inches over six feet had walked through the automated doorway. He had brunette hair, which hung around the crown of his head in limp strands. His skin was tan enough to show he spent suitable time outside yet not tan enough to suggest it was hereditary. His figure was trimmed and muscular but not to the point that they bulged to breaking apart his clothing. A strong jaw line with defined cheekbones and a slightly large yet sturdy looking nose defined his face. But the red tinted sunglasses he wore across his eyes obscured her vision from seeking a color for his eyes.

His head moved over the room, scanning it for a sign of the red headed doctor. Instead of his intended target he found Rogue instead. Cordially he put on a smile and walked over towards her, he held out a hand to her. "You must be new, I'm Scott Summers."

Rogue looked at the hand in indecision. Apparently the look on her face did not convey enough about her true feelings, as Scott took it for rudeness and withdrew his hands with a disappointed look on his face. He decided it best to leave the new girl alone and headed towards the door. She stared at her hands before holding her head high again.

"Its nothing personal," she said clearly.

Scott turned around, and he raised an eyebrow in challenge.

The Southerner inhaled deeply. This would be the what; tenth time she explained her mutation. "Its nothing personal, its just mah mutation that's all."

"Your mutation keeps you from shaking my hand?"

"Skin ta skin, yes," she answered.

He looked down at her hands. "You're wearing gloves."

"Ah don't even feel comfortable with all of this clothing on," Rogue motioned to her eccentric attire for the season. She was still wearing her pea coat. "Ah keep thinkin' that somehow mah mutation will come through the clothing'."

Scott smiled gently at her. "I never caught your name on the Blackbird when we came here," it was more of a casual statement than an actual question. She answered nonetheless.

"It's Rogue."

Scott had to chuckle. "Your parents were trying to make a statement, weren't they?"

Rogue smiled along with the joke, they both knew it wasn't a name from her parents. She didn't mind though his attempt to lighten the conversation. For a few minutes she felt like her old self again, the person before her mutation. "Well, I had to fit in with my brothers Rascal and Scoundrel."

He laughed again. He took a chair from the other side of the bed and pulled it over near her. "If you don't mind my asking, what is a Southerner such as yourself doing in Canada?"

"Ah was planning world domination before the Mountie," she motioned over at Logan, "here caught meh and was takin' meh to headquarters."

"In his trailer and truck?" Scott asked skeptically, leaning back in his chair to give her a disbelieving look.

Rogue only gave a smirk. "He was undercover. It's what fooled meh in the first place, he told meh he could juggle and Ah was hooked. Of course being undercover and all he couldn't have regular handcuffs so he used the seatbelt."

"Good thing we came to get you then. We need all the people bent on world domination on our side," Scott said seriously but with an air of taunting.

"No initiation rites before Ah get to join?"

"Oh no," Scott shook his head, "there are initiation rights such as eating the feared Katherine Pryde's cooking."

"Sounds dangerous," Rogue commented adding a small quiver to her voice for the sake of theatrics.

"I have yet to see someone survive," he reported forlorn. Then his eyebrows furrowed as if in concentration. He stayed that way for several moments before recognizing Rogue again. Rogue raised an eyebrow in concern. "Jean, the woman I came looking for originally. She was just contacting me…telepathically." He had added the last part at her skeptical look.

"Ah see," Rogue wasn't quite sure what that meant but she was sure she would find out eventually.

Scott stood up from his seat, sliding it next to her own. "Well, I promised to meet her upstairs. It was good to talk and meet you Rogue. Feel free to come upstairs and join in the conspiracies whenever you feel the need to leave the Mountie."

Rogue smiled. "Thanks for the offer, Mr. Summers."

"Just call me Scott; Mr. Summers makes me feel old."

"Scott, then."

He waved at her and offered another smile before walking out the doors and leaving Rogue alone to her thoughts again. For a long time she had felt like Marie again, the girl without a killer curse. Now though reality was setting back in and she was Rogue once more. She sighed and slumped in her seat to wait.

---

Rogue looked down at the middle tombstone. Out of the three she had connected the most with Scott, not to say that she didn't dearly miss the other two. She fell to her knees and hardly noticed the knees of her pajamas begin to soak up the grounds moisture. Her pale fingers ran across the surface of the marble, tracing the letters engraved into the stone. She felt a tear slip from her jade eyes and roll lazily down the contours of her cheek. She wiped it away hastily.

The admission of that first tear was the breaking point. The lock she kept so carefully to conceal her feelings broke and broke hard. Tears freefell from her eyes to join the dew on the grass. Her body shook with the effort of suppressed sobs, but eventually they stole free. It hurt, oh Gawd, it hurt!

They were gone. There one minute and gone the next. Even Jean lost before was tangled before them like a piece of meat in front of a starving canine and then taken away as quickly as she had come. It hurt. Her heart hurt, her mind hurt, she hurt from the sheer effort of suppressing her emotions.

She swatted a piece of platinum hair from her reddened eyes. She wiped the wetness from her cheeks and bit her lip to stop the fresh wave that threatened to release itself. Her head bent and her pale fingers laced through her hair in an effort to calm herself and hide behind her mask once more.

Something warm wrapped around shoulders she hadn't realized were chilled. Rogue leaned her head back unto the chest of the person whose arms were embracing her. She looked up into the cerulean depths of Piotr Rasputin. She made to wipe at her eyes again and his other arm prevented her.

"It iz not good to hold it in Rogue," Piotr whispered soothingly, his chest rumbling slightly beneath her back.

Numbly, she nodded in agreement. Her head lolled back unto his shoulder and he stroked the hair gently. His other arm moved from her shoulders to wrap around her waist. In response Rogue's hands clutched at his arm while she let a fresh set of tears stream from her tear ducts. A select few droplets fell from the Russians eyes as well.

It wasn't until an hour or so later that morning that Rogue had calmed down enough to register where they were and then time of day. She looked back at Piotr who was still stroking her hair and gazing above her head, lost in thought. She twisted in his arms and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders as best she could.

"Thank ya Piotr," Rogue said shakily, her voice gaining its usual confidence slowly. "Ah needed that."

"Da, I know Rogue," Piotr responded in kind.

They sat that for perhaps half an hour longer, staring at the tombstones before them lost in thought. Then as if noticing the time for the first they stood up and walked to the kitchen to start an early breakfast together. That was the beauty of their friendship. Word's weren't really needed; they understood each other as they had many things in common. A desire to appear strong for those around them was one such thing.

* * *

**Author's Note: **First off I would like to offer my sincerest apology for the excruciatingly long wait for this chapter. I truly intended to have it up by last Friday (before that too) but it just didn't happen. I can tell you that it was not my diabolical plan to weasel out more reviews. I added in the McCoy visit as a little something extra, and it makes sense that she would need to be checked out after having taken the 'Cure'. I included Comic concepts such as the background on Hank's life. Rogue addressing the Danger Room as Danger is from when the Danger room turns into sentient with a female appearance, hence the female voice. Along with the fact that Cerebro has a female voice. The dream sequences (parts in italics, since they are like thoughts it fits) go in this order respectively, Magneto, Logan, Storm, Scott and Jean. I took some of their worst experiences because that is what Rogue always tends to relive. And yes, I did mean to write them in as if Rogue was reliving the memories, that's why its all female pronouns. 

_Reviews –_ Thanks for reviewing! Again I am sorry for the delayed update. I love the Kitty/Jubes/Rogue friendship also and I think it's important to Rogue's character. Rogue/Bobby I have nothing against as friends, they work well together that way. Got to say I missed that Cajun in the movie too. Yeah Bobby can be a doodle. Here's your chapter xLiLix, sorry for the wait.

Coming up: An Asian, a Brit and a Southerner walk into a bar. (No, this isn't the start of a joke) And something Cajun this way comes.


	6. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER V**

_You're a stranger  
So what do I care  
You vanish today  
Not the first time I hear  
All the lies_

- _A Stranger _by A Perfect Circle

- - - - -

Everyday things change. Change is inevitable after all. There is no way to stop the subtle or drastic changes to the world around us. Changes through advancements in technology, changes by the shifts in social standards and morality. And the basic changes to the environment that we inhabit. Change is a portion of life that we have all come to accept as normal. But sometimes, those changes can be pleasant and sometimes those changes can be horrible. They can easily start off one way and change directions towards the others, and no one really ever knows until it's all over.

Of course not everyone adjusts to changes as well as their neighbor. It makes life interesting for some and hell for others.

It had been roughly two weeks since the Xavier institute had held a memorial service for their lost comrades. Classes were meant to start in about a week or so and there was overall chaos in the mansion. The students themselves were dreading the beginning of school. The new teachers were perhaps dreading the arrival even more than there students. Currently those teachers were lounging around the library supposedly formulating lesson plans.

"_Dios míos_!" a muffled cry was emitted from the arms of Jubilation Lee. She had her arms locked over the mountain of paperwork before her, with her head crowning it all. "_Estoy loca. ¡Loca para estoy queriendo enseñar una clase¡Loca es yo!_"

"Jubes," Rogue moaned from her position lying on the floor.

The Asian girl didn't even bother to raise her head. "Spanish again?"

"Yup," Kitty supplied automatically.

"Oh, yeah," Bobby was glad to have anything to distract him, except that every time Jubilee spoke in Spanish it made his head hurt worse.

"Da," Piotr was easily able to answer while still concentrating on his work.

"_Lo siento_," Jubilee consented quickly before making a frustrated noise at her mistake. "Sorry, I meant sorry."

"S'alright, we're all fried," Rogue's hands were covering her eyes from the eyesore of paper surrounding them all.

"I think this teaching thing was a horrible idea," Bobby kept looking down at the music notes only to stare at them for a long enough period of time that he could swear they were dancing. Dancing badly, dancing ballet. The tutu and everything, some even appeared to have top hats and canes instead of the leotard and tutu. His hands ran through his short blond hair once more to restore his sanity from dancing music notes.

"Shut up, you only have to music," Kitty retorted bitterly from her position in the window seat with her laptop perched atop her thighs.

Bobby rolled his eyes at her. "Yeah, real easy. I get to hear the screeching sounds of kids when they try to master an instrument."

Rogue uncovered her eyes to see the chaos that had engulfed the library at their arrival. A myriad of papers were scattered on every surface imaginable. Books had been pulled seemingly at random. There was one uninhabited potion of the library where Jubilee had lost it and threw her papers in the air with a few choice fireworks, she swore were accidental. After the resulting flame, Piotr had to extract Jubilee before Bobby could ice it over. Jubilee had been forced to grovel for library admittance again, using much-needed snacks she had retrieved as a bargaining chip.

Speaking of the spunky girl, she was currently burying her head as far as it would go in between her arms. She had found she liked the Spanish language much ore without lesson plans. Throughout their time here she had continually lapsed between English to Spanish, frequently enough to make the others weary. She would probably be just fine at teaching the children the language itself, but all of the written work and the grammar was going to drag her down.

Bobby was sitting at another table sifting through various books trying to determine what musical pieces to use. He couldn't decide if he wanted Mozart's _40th Symphony_ or Bach's _Fugue in D minor_. Maybe he should just start out simple and lean towards _Happy Birthday_ or teach them the James Bond theme song. He still had to figure out how to play several other popular instruments. He ended up making one every once and awhile to get acquainted with the finger positioning. Man, he was screwed. 

Kitty sat rather calmly in the window seat with her computer searching for ideas. She had already found a typing program and several sites with suggestions. She had topics for photography planned already. The Chicagoan rarely had trouble planning and calculating things; it was a handy skill when packing a suitcase knowing you would need room for your extra purchases on the return. She really wasn't as obsessed with shopping and boys as other people believed her to be. Rogue knew, Jubilee did too, just as she knew things about them.

Piotr sat near Kitty far away from Jubilee, as she had almost caught his papers with a spark from her earlier accident. He didn't find the task of lesson plans as hard as the others made it out to be. Really it only took a few hours of thought process into the way one wished the year to progress and making an outline; using that you dissect the main points into smaller ones until you get to individual assignments. Of course he had the art classes so there wasn't much writing from students he'd have to think of.

The southerner's eyes traveled down to the papers that surrounded her presently. She had worked out a book list and a few writing assignments for her classes. She had enough for a quarter of the year; she figured she'd plan the rest out later.

A slight sliding of paper reached her trained ears over the noises from her other companions. Rogue turned to look over her shoulder to the place where Warren had taken up residence. They had invited him to join them in hopes that he would open up a little. It didn't quite work. He was here, sure, but he had been quietly working by his lonesome ever since they began. He would answer if they asked him something directly, but otherwise he was silent.

Rogue really couldn't figure out why he was so still. He was the song of a multi-millionaire, weren't they supposed to be loud, cocky and obnoxious to the point you _wished_ you could forget they were in the room? And yet here he was acting like a mouse, she barely believed that he was breathing enough. There had to be someway they could make him feel welcomer.

Before she could conceive a way, her target stood and walked silently from the room. Rogue surveyed the rest of them. No one had noticed. Then she noticed the slight downturn of Kitty's mouth and then furrow in Piotr's brow. Scratch that, Jubilee and Bobby hadn't noticed, not that that wasn't normal for them.

Gracefully Rogue stood from her position on the floor. She leapt over the mound of papers, emerging on the other side. Kitty looked up from her computer screen with her eyebrow raised. Rogue made a small flying motion with her hands. Her friend nodded and returned to her scanning.

"Ah'm going to head to the kitchen for some sustenance," this brought the other's head up to look at her.

Jubilee's head already missed her arms. "Great, give the girl an English gig and she starts to use intelligent words like 'sustenance' and 'psychoanalysis'."

"Ah never said 'psychoanalysis'," Rogue pointed out.

"You did now," and her black haired head was back to the comfortable pillow that was her arms.

Emerald eyes rolled as their owner walked from the room shaking her head lightly. She thought of where she should begin her search but her stomach interrupted her thoughts. A quick kitchen run would help settle the debate raging in her head. Her bare feet padded lightly as they sunk into the plush hallway. It was a Saturday and they were all stuck in the library planning. Teaching, she had a feeling, was never easy. Teaching mutant children—nigh impossible.

Rogue hadn't realized she'd closed her eyes until her feet were met with cool tile instead of carpet, and she had no recollection of arriving to her destination. Her eyes popped open to glimpse the wonder of the Xavier Mansion's kitchen. The facility was gloriously large in an attempt to feed several off numbers of students that housed at the mansion at one time.

By passing the usual stop at the pantry for something salty or sweet she headed straight for the fridge. She grabbed a bottle of chilled water and reached into the drawer for an apple. She pulled out a piece of plastic and a sharp knife before dividing the succulent flesh. Having satisfied that need she moved her items to a shadowed corner of the table found in the kitchen. Rogue sat back relishing in the simple minded task of eating an apple and taking drinks of water as opposed to planning details essays and complex exams.

Her brain was past fried, fried was like a far off speck to her brain. It was two sheaves of paper away from vegetation. Maybe she could convince Ororo that she couldn't teach for risk of permanent brain damage.

Of course her friend would see right through that. Damn her calm intuitive nature.

She finished off her apple and pushed away the plastic board that had contained it. Unscrewing the cap from her water she took a long drag and leaned back relaxing into the stable wall behind her. That was until she heard a rustling enter the kitchen.

Green flashed as her eyes snapped open to spy upon the very reason she had left the library in the first place; Warren.

Standing before her he was dressed in a navy tee and no doubt styled jeans, though they didn't seem like it. Low levels of the dark pigment eumelanin and higher levels of the pale pigment pheomelanin, characterized his hair making it a golden blond in color. That fact coupled with his eyes that contained low amounts of within the iris stroma; longer wavelengths of light tend to be absorbed by the underlying iris pigment epithelium and shorter wavelengths are reflected and undergo Rayleigh scattering. The type of melanin present is primarily eumelanin. Rogue had to shake her head at the effect Hank was having on her thought processes.

Warren stood in the kitchen with his golden crown and azure eyes and she assumed somewhere along his heredity there had been someone of Scandinavian descent, most likely a Swede. She mused that he fit some of the typical Swedish stereotype of being quiet, cold and unfriendly, but more so in the fact that he seemed anti-social.

Her quarry had moved to from a quick glance at the pantry to the fridge while she had been speculating. Rogue realized that in her corner she was hard to glimpse upon and therefore cleared her throat.

He spun around to face the noise, with his guard raised. Chancing on her figure he relaxed considerably, remembering where he was and that for once he was safe with people holding nothing over his head. As Rogue stepped out into the light Warren's body tensed up once again.

"Fancy meetin' you here," Rogue attempted to part the waters lightly.

Warren ran his hand through his mane. "I got restless, and then hungry."

Rogue walked over towards the sink and deposited her items in the stainless steel hole. She ran a small stream of water over the surface before turning and looking back at the other occupant of the room. He was shifting through the fridge his muscles still rather tense as an awkward silence hung in the air. Never one for awkward silences, Rogue proposed to fix it.

"Warren," she tucked a stray lock behind her ear, planning how to ask her next question. It came out completely different. "Do you hate meh?"

"What?" Rogue could barely hear his retort as a large thump emitted as his head hit the top of the refrigerator. He turned around to look at her completely bewildered and thrown off about her question.

"You always leave a room after Ah enter, not right away but eventually. Yah seem on edge when Ah'm around more so than with the others. Ah've noticed these things, Ah'm not mad, Ah just want to know why. It's a rather simple question," she said this softer than she had intended.

Warren was silent for quite a while and the silence returned. Rogue let out a sigh taking this as a bad sign and turned back to the sink, her face crestfallen. "Actually, I was wondering the same thing myself."

"You were wondering if yah disliked meh?" Rogue asked as she turned around to face him once again.

His face held a sheepish smile. "Not exactly. I meant more along the lines of you loathing me."

"Why in the world would Ah dislike you, Ah barely know yah?"

"My father," Warren answered barely above a whisper. Rogue quirked an eyebrow and he continued. "My father is the one who funded development of the Cure."

"So yah want meh to say Thanks or something?" Rogue knew some of the mansions occupants would hate her, but she was hoping to avoid this sort of thing.

He visibly grimaced. "I was thinking more along the lines of me apologizing," his finger combed through his tresses again, finding a familiar path in the soft fields.

"The Cure was voluntary," she pointed out, although for some reason it sounded hollow in her ears.

His eyes took on a darker hue than the aquarium they held before. It felt like he wasn't really looking at her, but past her, remembering something he would rather forget. In truth he was, he was thinking about when he'd been offered the Cure. His eyes refocused and locked on to her own. "We both know it's not _really_ voluntary. Maybe at first, but then who knows what will happen, who'll get hurt."

Realization crossed Rogue face and her mouth softened into a smile. "It's not your fault," Warren made a pointedly disbelieving look at his wings. "Its not yahre fault about who's your parent and what they do. We can't decide those things, and we cannot change who they already are."

"You might feel that way, but everyone else…" he left the sentence hanging and open for interpretation.

"Let me put something into prospective for yah," Rogue leaned back against the counter. "Ah'm assuming your father funded the Cure to take away yahre gift. Obviously you didn't use it, Ah did. So if anyone has problems with the Cure they'll be directed towards a volunteer not a bystander."

"Why did you take the Cure?" he sounded concerned at the thought, then again he didn't know the reason yet.

"Mah _gift_ was always more of a curse. It hurt more people than it helped, so I removed it," Rogue said it so nonchalantly that it was as if she didn't even care one-way or the other.

"I don't hate you Rogue," Warren was still looking her in the eye, neither backing down to let the other know they meant exactly what they said.

She smiled. "Ah'm glad, 'cause Ah don't hate yah either," she thought she might leave it at that, but then something occurred to her. "No else hates yah."

He smiled and Rogue had to admit she liked the way that it looked on him. "Thanks, but I think time will determine that," Warren started towards the door to the kitchen, never actually achieving in finding something to eat.

"Hey Warren," Rogue saw him stop before he reached the doorway and turn around. "Would you like some friendly advice?" he nodded with an amused look on his features. "Try being a little more social."

He laughed. "Any suggestions?"

"Best way to break the ice," she walked away from the sink and to the pantry pulling out several items. She bent down and extracted a few cans, placing them on the island. She went to the fridge and took a few things from that. "is with food," Rogue placed as much as she could in his arms, as he had to laugh at her antics.

"You think this will win them over?" He was trying to balance all of the food and drinks within his arm span; he had to employ the use of his wings to make sure none fell from the appendages.

"Foods the way to any guys heart, or stomach at least. Not to mention Jubes and Kitty can't hate a pretty face,"

"Well then," Warren looked from Rogue to the items he held cradled. "Bribery ahoy."

Rogue helped him through the door and was laughing silently to herself as she walked back over to the sink to wash up her things.

She had learned a few things. A stereotype is there for no purpose, as in most instances it is grossly inaccurate. She still assented that Warren was of Swedish heritage somehow but not just in looks. The quiet, cold and unfriendly manner is mistaken for not being as out going as other cultures. He really was a nice, friendly person. He was honest too, definitely more Swedish than he seemed at first.

Soft laughter accompanied by light applause cut through the silence that had filled the kitchen. Rogue whirled around, knife in hand and let it fly towards the source before she knew what was happening. She saw an emission of amethyst light before she heard the clink of something hitting the tile. She heard another clink, two something's then. A heeled foot came from the shadows near where Rogue had been sitting before. Rogue's eyes traveled from the shoes to the face of their owner.

An Asian woman was standing before her. Her hair was solid purple in color and her eyes seemed to take on a particular violet hue of their own. She was taller than Rogue, perhaps three inches taller or so. Her body composition suggested she was physically fit or at least conscience of how to stay healthy. Her jeans had holes on the thighs and the frayed bottoms concealed her boots. She was clothed in a simple white tank and green overcoat that worked well with her tanned complexion. Something about her struck a chord in Rogue's mind.

_She wore a simple forest green tank with a leather corset around her waist._

"Personally I would have followed that Angel out of the room," the woman's voice surprisingly held a British accent one you wouldn't typically expect from someone with an oriental ancestry.

_She had obvious oriental ancestry._

"What the hell are you doin' here?" Rogue practically growled while shifted her body into a defensive stance.

"Warm welcome the lot o' you give. What no hello hug?"

_Parts of her raven hair were dyed purple._

"What are you doin' here Revanche?" Rogue repeated herself as she made the connection of who the Asian woman was. She _had_ seen here before, the only difference was the British accent and the fully dyed purple hair and maybe an attitude adjustment.

Any expression on the oriental woman's face slid right off, as only her eyes let out her fury. "Sorry to disappoint, but that bitch is gone. But judging by the way you said her name I don't think she'll be missed."

"Are yah _DID_ or something?" Rogue was looking at the woman in front of her confused. This was the same woman she had seen before, but she claimed she wasn't here. If this wasn't a Dissociative identity disorder she didn't know what was.

"Hardly," the woman stepped further from the shadows and shook out her long hair. She held out a hand towards Rogue in a form of greeting. "Name's Elisabeth Braddock, I believe you had the misfortune to meet Kwannon."

"You really expect meh ta believe that? What are yah doin' here and what does the Brotherhood want?" the southerner's eyes were narrowed to slits trying to figure out what the woman's ulterior motive really was.

"Luv, I wouldn't toe that line for all the runways in the world. Even I've got priorities," Elisabeth looked highly insulted at being hinted at associating with the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. Of course numerous mutants would feel the same way, many of those at the institute being the primary ones.

Rogue's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Yah're lying, Ah remember you."

"If I wanted to hurt you I would have done so already," the purple haired woman retorted. '_Although your mental shields are above average fo_r _a human.'_

'_Ah had a good teacher,' _Rogue projected towards the other woman. She mentally, in a part of her mind that was heavily shielded, curses herself for forgetting to keep that defense up as well.

"It is rather unusual to see a human living in a school inhabited by mutants," Elisabeth commented dryly obviously trying to rub a raw wound with salt for Rogue.

"Says the woman who broke in."

"I didn't break in. Does anything look broken to you?" She motioned around with her hands to everything that was still in tact.

In fact _almost_ everything was unharmed. The only thing that Rogue spied was the knife that she had thrown when Elisabeth had first talked. It lay on the floor, broken in two pieces as if it was cut apart. The only mineral that Rogue knew could cut through steel like that was adamantium. But what kind of adamantium gave off a violet glow?

"How is it Ah _saw_ yah in the Brotherhood then?" Rogue was certain it was the same person. The looks and the fact that the woman had obviously known the other's name somehow.

"In a way you did and you didn't," Elisabeth finally consented not really answering the question and yet answering it at the same time.

Rogue's response was to raise an eyebrow.

A sigh escaped perfectly sculpted lips. "It's complicated."

"Try meh," her green eyes hadn't wavered from the other woman in the room. Her muscles were still tensed and at the ready should she need to defend herself, but she had relaxed enough to lean against the counter instead of staying crouched.

Elisabeth's hand tried to rub away some of the tension in her neck. "My body was there but my mind wasn't."

Rogue's demeanor switched to concern and sorrow. "Someone was controllin' yah body?"

"Not exactly," she took a deep breath before continuing. "This isn't _my_ body. It's some bloody Japanese woman's."

Emerald's widened at the statement of that alone. The woman before her was inhabiting a body that wasn't her own. And apparently she was still having issues dealing with it; Rogue of course knew what that was like.

"So, yah're in Revanche's body with your mind, and she's in yahre body with her mind?"

"That would be the root of it, luv," Elisabeth looked slightly relieved that she didn't have to go into the schematics of how everything had happened. It did get quite tiring for one to have to keep explaining themselves to each person they met. The worst was when she had tried to visit her family; her welcome here seemed warm compared to the one they had given her. Especially since Kwannon had already been there.

"Then, yah came here to in hopes of having the Professor switch yahre minds back? Because Ah hate ta tell you but…"

Rogue didn't get to finish as Elisabeth cut her off. "No actually. That's not possible because Kwannon's dead."

---

Every time Elisabeth "Betsy" Braddock arrived home there was a change. The first time she had given up her golden hair for violet tresses. Shortly after, she left being a charter pilot to gain a career in modeling. Her powers developed somewhere in the mix and Betsy had always believed they helped influence her hair. The fact was that Betsy had never kept in constant contact with any of her family, not even her twin, Brian.

Walking up the steps to her childhood home in Maldon, Essex in England she couldn't' help but feel apprehensive. Things were definitely different this time. This time she might not even make it past the door because of this change.

The three weeks had been torture, literally in a sense. Her life had been ripped out from underneath her, and she was desperately clinging to those last strings to weave it back together. If this didn't work she was out of options.

Three weeks ago she had been a British girl with purple dyed hair vacationing in Japan. There she had a run in with the legendary organized crime group based mainly out of Japan known as The Hand, who were headed by Matsu'o Tsurayaba.

Outnumbered, the easily captured the British mutant despite her best efforts to use her powers against them. When she woke again she was strapped to a metallic stab and wore next to nothing. Standing above her was none other than Matsu'o Tsurayaba.

The leader deemed it important to explain why his men had abducted her when she had never done anything to them. The answer was simply his lover had recently been rendered brain-dead. Her body had fallen from a cliff towards the ocean below. Doctors of the Hand were able to save her body, but her mind was lost. Betsy was going to help restore her mind, though not in the conventional way.

It turns out that his lover, Kwannon had a low level of telepathic abilities that were still connecting the fragments of her mind. Combined with Betsy's telepathy her mind could be reconstructed again. The only hitch was that to combine the powers they had to both reside within the same body. Matsu'o contacted a known mercenary; Spiral, to use her sorcery to switch the two women's minds. And she did just that, but with a few modifications of her own.

Spiral had merged portions of their DNA so that it mirrored one another. There was no way to genetically tell who was who anymore. And each body held potions of both women's minds. But in each one was more dominant and then other recessive. Kwannon's Asian body now housed the mind, soul and a small portion of Betsy's mutant DNA, while the likewise was similar with her original body.

Matsu'o was unawares and believed the body of his lover held her mind too. He set the Caucasian form of Kwannon out on the streets of Japan. Proceeding the switch the two women were confused to their true identities and acted as though they were amnesic. This served the Hand leader's agenda perfectly. He now had not only his lover back but one of the best assassins on his side. All it took from him was some training to hone her skills back into active use. Besides her martial arts training Betsy received training for her growing telepathy. With its emergence came the realization of who she really was.

That was when she had left Japan and the man who had brainwashed her, only leaving the simple note: _I'm not the woman you want Matta._

Her revelation had also sprung up the memories of her family and her past. She had tried to contact friends, but only by phone. If they saw her now, they wouldn't believe it was really true. The only place that Betsy could go now was to her home, Braddock Manor.

Betsy arrived in front of the ornate doorways having used various skills to avoid security. She didn't want to have to explain to anyone else yet. She just wanted to see her family, see her twin. He would understand, he always understood. Her fingers glided delicately over the wooden decking searching for the small hole in one, usually covered up by the doormat. Her pink dug into the hole while her nails levered the sides of the board up enough so that she could grasp the key hidden inside. Betsy had placed the key there herself, for whenever one of them needed to come in without the doorbell rousing the whole Manor.

She replaced the board and the mat before opening the door to her childhood home. She walked through the halls searching for someone while noticing how nothing had changed. It was then that she heard a laugh. A deep throaty laugh that was associated with her bulk of a brother Brian. It brought a smile to her face to hear her brother laughing. Another laugh joined his, a feminine laugh, _her _laugh, which caused Betsy's eyes to narrow and a soft growl slipped from her lips.

Rounding the corner to the parlor, Betsy's purple tinted eyes met the sight of her brother sitting in a chair with a glass of brandy in his hand. His six foot six frame was shaking with laughter that was sure to bring a sparkle to his blue eyes. In a chair across from his held her former body with the mind of a Japanese assassin inside.

"You get the hell away from him!" Betsy yelled as she ran at Kwannon.

Artfully the other woman's reflex's kicked in and she dodged in time. Betsy stopped herself and rounded back at the other woman, who held a small smirk underneath her look of confusion.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Betsy found it strange to see her body before her talking, and her not being in control of it.

"I am Betsy Braddock, and I want my life _back!_" She charged at Kwannon again and this time her heal connected with the other woman's stomach, the impact knocking her over. Betsy wasted no time in straddling the woman and punching her in the face that should be her own. She got in maybe two punches before two strong arms wrapped around her waist and hefted her off of the imposter. She looked back to see that her brother was securely holding away from beating up who he believed to be his sister.

"I'll repeat what my sister asked, who are you and what do you want here?" Brian's deep voice helped to sooth her nerves a bit and caused others to agitate in anger when she thought about that woman pretending to be her.

"I am Elisabeth Braddock, and I want my life back."

"Alright, maybe we'll try something simpler," Brian wasn't usually this patient, especially not when someone had just attacked his family. "How did you get inside undetected?"

Betsy rolled her eyes feeling like her old self, "I used the key under the mat board, what else Bri," she made a sound of disapproval. "Although I'll need to fix the hole a little, my fingers have grown since then."

Brian's hold tightened in his shock. "How did you know about that?"

Kwannon saw it fit to jump in as she lifted herself tenderly off the floor. She wiped a stream of blood from her mouth. "Because she'd been trying imposter me for weeks, and she's extremely knowledgeable on our family history."

"It that so Kwannon, because I have a feeling I know more than you could hope to learn,"

Her response was a laugh. "Why don't we test that theory," Kwannon turned her attention from Betsy to her brother. "Brian, why don't you ask a question only the real Betsy would know."

Brian looked between the woman he was restraining and his sister. "Well…Who was I with when our parents died?"

"Wait!" Betsy cried out. Both pairs of eyes traveled to her. "How are we going to give the answer, we can't say it out loud because then she would get it too. How about telepathically?"

"Alright, does that work for you Betts?" Brian looked to his sister while the woman in his arms seethed at the nickname.

Kwannon smiled, "Its fine."

"Answers any time then," Brian waited patiently for the answers and was stunned when they both came at the same time.

'_Valerie_'

It unnerved him that both voices sounded like his sister's psychic one. "That didn't solve anything."

'_Brian, don't listen to her. She isn't me, she isn't Betsy.' _She was pleading with her brother, hoping he would understand and believe her. She hoped that he could see through the lies.

'_And how do I know that you are?'_

That made sense to her. After all someone barges into your home and claims to be a relative you have standing in front of you, you would be more than a little skeptical. _'Because I remember how you became Captain Britain and the choice Roma asked you to make.'_

Brian's face looked down at the woman he was containing. _'Betts?'_

'_In the mind, in flesh unfortunately no.' _Betsy projected dejectedly. She ached to be within her own body again and look at the familiar face in the mirror every morning. To be able to see her friends again and be recognized as being Betsy Braddock again.

'_What happened to you?' _Brian sounded concerned. He knew it was her the moment she had said Roma's name. Captain Britain someone could find out about, but the who and the how were scarcely known.

'_It's a long story Bri, revolving around the woman in front of us. I'll deal with her, but you have to act like you don't that it's _really_ me.'_

'_Alright.'_

"Since we cannot settle this like adults I have an idea," Betsy said staring down the woman in front of her.

"And what's that?" Brian asked curios to who he now knew was Betsy's idea.

Betsy didn't answer and instead asked another question. "Brian, where's Meggan?"

"She wanted to go visit some old friends…," he decided to humor her and see where this all played out. His sister never was one for extremely strategic thinking.

"She went to see the Scotts?" Betsy's voice had softened and took on a concerned tone. It would have been simpler if Meggan was here. But she knew what the Scott family had meant to her as a child and didn't question it.

"Yes, because of the anniversary of Mickey's death. Why?" Brian had wanted to accompany his wife on the trip but she had said she wanted to do this alone. It was shortly after that that his 'sister' had shown up and they had started reconnecting again.

"Meggan would be able to tell who the real Betsy is by our auras," Betsy stated smugly giving a satisfied smirk to Kwannon.

The woman in her body narrowed her eyes before looking at Brian with a smile. "Why don't you go call Meggan, and ask her if she could return earlier than expected."

Brian looked down at Betsy. "Will you behave?"

Betsy made a face at her twin. "I'm not seven. I will if she does," She hated when he tried to act like an older brother to her. She was in fact born a scant few minutes before her twin.

"Funny, I can't tell," Brian remarked dryly as he released her from his hold. He rolled his shoulders and arms back into motion from staying stationary for so long. He gave one last look at Betsy before walking past Kwannon. "I'll be right back Betsy,"

Brian was out the doorway when Kwannon stopped him briefly by placing a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry about all this," she motioned towards Betsy who was still inside the room.

He smiled down at her like she was his sister and didn't desire to get into his uniform and find out some answers. "Its alright, at least I know you're safe."

She smiled in return. She took her hand off of his arm while the one that had been gesticulating previously came forth with a violet dagger emerging from her hand.

Betsy spied the manifestation of psychic power and lunged forward. "NO!"

But she was too late as Kwannon had already plunged the blade into Brian's head. Betsy watched in horror as her brother's body slumped to the floor, unconscious. Her gaze drifted up at the woman in her body who had just attacked her brother.

"You're going to pay for that luv," Betsy growled while moving closer to her opponent.

Kwannon laughed. "Don't worry he's not dead _yet_."

"I'm not letting you hurt anyone else," her blue eyes took on a more noticeable violet hue as a glowing katana appeared within her hand.

"I must say that I'm impressed. You mastered that skill quickly," Kwannon produced two short ninja knives of her own. "Unfortunately for you, I'm better."

They both launched forwards at the same time, three purple radiating blades hitting one another. Betsy pushed herself backwards and spun around aiming her katana at the other woman's leg. The dagger quickly grew to be another katana and blocked the other. While the blades were occupied Betsy's leg shot out and caught Kwannon's, taking her feet from underneath her. Kwannon arched her body backwards and into a back flip landing her away from Betsy.

Betsy wove slowly towards her target who wove in exactly the opposite way. Kwannon punched and Betsy caught it before it connected. Betsy having gained a momentary advantage aimed a punch at the woman's stomach, but it was caught much like the one that had been for her. It was then that she realized due to having a little of each other inside they could predict the other's moves. They knew one another's style.

She quickly flipped away choosing to play the prey instead of the predator. Kwannon followed with a gleam in her eyes. "You know this is all your fault."

Betsy starred at her incredulous. Wasn't she the one who had been attacked on the streets of Japan? Wasn't she the one who had her mind switched to save the woman's life? Really it could be faulted to Spiral for her deviancy or Matsu'o for his devotion to Kwannon. Or to Kwannon herself for falling off a bloody cliff and becoming brain dead. She looked around for anything that might help her.

"If you had just stayed within your own body this wouldn't have happened. You made Matsu'o throw me away like trash. You made him believe that it was me inside my body. It's _your_ fault!" Kwannon cried as she leapt forward, purple katana in hand.

Betsy moved out of the way as the katana crashed through the behind there she was standing. The wood splintered to the floor uselessly showing the true power behind the focused psychic energy. She quickly slid near Kwannon, opening up her palm and used the side of her hand to smash into the other woman's thigh. Kwannon fell effectively having a dead leg.

"I didn't do anything to you," Betsy gritted out defiantly as she brought her katana out again. She aimed it at the woman on the floor.

Kwannon met Betsy's katana with her own and then used her other leg to sweep Betsy's feet from under her. Betsy fell down, her back hitting forcibly against the wooden flooring. Kwannon forced to slither over due to her leg still not functioning properly she set her knees on either side of Betsy's waist and began punching her. A reenactment of what Betsy had done earlier.

This time though there was no Brian to pull the other off. Betsy tried to move her arms but found them trapped beneath Kwannon's knees. She slowly started the test the reached of her wrist.

"You ruined me life! And now I'm going to ruin yours!" Kwannon cried as she punched Betsy in the jaw causing a stream of blood to fall out. "Say goodbye to Psylocke and hello to Revanche."

"Hello," Betsy coughed as her wrist tilted up and a small illuminated ninja knife embedded into Kwannon's foot.

The other woman cried in pain and rage as she stood up glowering down at the other purple haired woman. "You bitch."

"Look who's talking luv," Betsy coughed again which yielded a small amount of blood. She rolled unto her back and uncurled her feet out and into the other woman's stomach, propelling her slightly off the ground and backwards.

Kwannon flew backwards and her spine connected solidly with the large mirror behind her. She was forced the cover her face with her arms to avoid serious injury due to the shattering of the glassy surface. She lurched forwards with several fragments of glass caught within her flesh. The blood ran down her back in rivets.

Betsy took out a small knife from a sheath in her boot. She flung it at the other woman and it hit her square in the chest just as her training had taught her. Kwannon looked down shocked at the knife embedded in her chest. She sputtered and wrenched the metal from her skin. A fresh stream of blood flowed from the already running wound. She coughed and blood spurted from her mouth. Shakily her hand clasped over the hole in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Betsy slowly raised herself from the ground and watched as the other woman's hand left her chest and tried to brace her weakening body against the wall. All it did was leave a bloody smear on the wallpaper as her legs collapsed causing her to fall to the ground.

Psylocke strode over and crouched down before the dying woman. She slowly wiped the blood from around her mouth. "It didn't have to end this way."

Revanche seemed to thing differently as her breathing became labored. With each inhalation another spurt of blood came from her mouth. Her eyes were slowly glazing over, as she took one last breath, "Matta," she croaked before she started coughing again.

Betsy's eyes softened slightly. "I'm sorry," she drew her hand back and then forwards, her psychic blade plunging into the assassins skull.

Both women screamed. They were assaulted the missing pieces of their psyches able to finally connect all of the puzzle again. Betsy's blade was still within Kwannon's body as she saw the woman's life pass before her eyes. That was until everything started to turn black, and the last thing she remembered was flying backwards and connecting with the floor.

---

Rogue sat in the kitchen across from the woman who had broken in. She had told Rogue what had happened to the other woman, and the southern belle was stunned. They had switched bodies. "That must have been horrible not being able to remember everything that happened to yah."

"The worst of it," Betsy admitted having warmed up to Rogue considerable. "was that I had two people in my head telling me what I should do the whole time. I swear, luv, you don't know how hard that was."

A pale hand tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "Try havin' a dozen of 'em. It gets worse," A wry smile had appeared on her face at that last comment. It had been hard, unbearable but all of the psyches were gone now. The chaos of her mindscape was blissfully quiet now.

"I'm afraid I'm not following," Elisabeth couldn't quite grasp how someone could have multiple voices inside their head, unless they were an emerging telepath perhaps. But still it wasn't quite the same thing.

"My powers, when Ah had them, were absorption through skin ta skin contact. Ah would get the person's life force, memories and in the case of mutants powers. The powers would only last for a small portion of time, while the life force and memories would be permanently imprinted within my mind. Ah could never control it."

Betsy grimaced. "Harsh," She looked around the kitchen idly. "I don't think I properly introduced myself. I am Elisabeth Braddock, but you can call me Betsy luv."

Rogue extended her bare hand with a smile, "Ah'm Rogue."

The Asian accepted the hand and shook it. A smile of her own was gracing her lips. "An interesting name," she commented. As a content lull fell in the conversation she thought of a way to break it. "Is that natural?" she motioned towards the girl's hair.

Rogue fingered her platinum streaks. "Actually, no. Is yours?"

Betsy laughed. "At first no, but now I think it might be, who really knows," the way she said it gave way to her uncertainty about the whole past of her body.

The southerner stood up from the table and waited for her companion to join her. "Why don't we go find Ororo and get yah a room?"

"That sounds good to me," the British accent still confused Rogue but it certainly did make the woman quite unique. They were walking down the hallway when Betsy spotted a shadow lurking near them. "Rogue, have you ever teleported?"

Rogue's brow furrowed with the absurdity of the question. "Yes, Kurt can teleport. But he leaves behind a particular brimstone odor that makes it less appealing."

"Would you like to try a different version?" Betsy asked with a mischievous smile on her lips, while holding out a hand to Rogue.

"Ah'd love ta," Rogue was always up for something new. And besides there were dozens of shadows within the mansion and they had a large amount of ground to cover in order to find the African woman. Why not go about if efficiently. She walked forward and grasped Psylocke's hand and they jumped into the shadow before them.

- - - - -

Betsy had arrived the week before classes had started. Rogue had wanted to go and take Betsy clubbing with them as a sort of 'welcome to the team' thing. But Kitty and Jubilee had convinced her it would be better to wait until after the first day of class. Then they would have more to celebrate, their survival and the Brits' arrival. The two oddly haired women had hit it offer rather well after their shaky start.

They had found Ororo and explained Betsy's situation. The older woman immediately agreed to let Betsy stay and encouraged her to become involved in some of the activities that went on in the mansion. Casually 'Ro mentioned that their French teacher was still missing in action, Betsy having spent sufficient time in Paris for photo shoots had picked up the language. She agreed to teach the class until the teacher turned up. Rogue later accused Ororo of wheedling Betsy into the position. The white haired woman just smiled as she tended to her plants.

Rogue was currently wishing it was back to the time Betsy had showed up. At least then she would still have a week before her classes began. Now though it was the first day, and she was scared stiff. She could hear the sounds of the children inside the room as she stood outside the door. Her first period class was Freshman English. Steeling herself for what she would find inside, she grasped the handle and opened the door.

Almost immediately the room turned silent as they stared at their new teacher. Many of them had met her before of course but it was a casual meeting in the hallway when they both had other places to go. And then, the chattered started up again in the form of whispers. If possible this irked Rogue more than the silence did. One conversation she picked out more than the others as she walked to the desk in the front of the room.

"Oh my god! It is true; we've got Rogue as a teacher!" Looking under lowered lashes Rogue placed the voice with Tabitha Smith. She short haired blonde that was cut below her ears and fanned out stylishly around her head. Rogue remembered some things from the files she had read on each of her students. Codenamed Boom-Boom while in the Danger Room she had the ability to create explosive balls of energy to use at her whim, which usually meant mischief.

"I don't see why she's still here. She got the stupid cure, she's normal now," Again Rogue was forced too look under lowered lashes to see Amara Aquilla. Her brunette hair fell straight around her face and went perfectly with her tanned Nova Roman complexion. She was named Magma because of her power to generate fiery blasts and manipulate magma flow from the earth. She was high influenced by Tabitha and didn't mind acting like a princess.

"I think its pity from her friends," Tabitha whispered leaning towards her friend's ear.

Rogue was busy taking out papers and arranging them on the desks, giving her students time to talk and wondering how this particular conversation was going to pan out.

"From what I heard," Amara began while checking her nails. "she's supposed to help in the DR too."

Tabitha seemed shocked. "Seriously? That's lame she doesn't have powers anymore. She can't do anything, she'll be a liability."

Rogue had finally had enough. She cleared her throat loudly. "If you want ta test that theory Tabitha or Amara we can have a Danger Room match. Ah'll even let you use yahre powers," The two girls knew better than to respond to that. They sat there silently with their arms crossed and eyebrows raised in challenge. Rogue let out a heavy sigh, knowing already this day was doing to last forever. "Now to get this straight, yes Ah got the cure. Call meh whatever you choose, Ah couldn't care less, but Ah took that cure to get rid of mah curse."

"Mutancy isn't a curse," A dark haired Brazilian boy supplied from near the front of the classroom. Rogue knew him as Roberto da Costa, able to absorb solar energy and channel it through his body to create intense heat and plasma blasts along with using the thermal updrafts for flight.

"What's yahre power Roberto?"

"I can convert the suns solar energy into physical strength enabling me to fire plasma blasts and fly," he answered smugly, apparently extremely comfortable with his mutant powers enough to brag.

"Sounds nice," Rogue commented dryly. "Mah power was to steel the essence of a living being through absorption. Ah could never touch anyone—ever. Have you ever had ta go without something that yah use daily? Something you don't really notice is there, but it impacts yahre life greatly? Try that with human contact."

"But they were your _powers_! They made you special, they made you different!" Amara cried out, obviously not grasping the reasoning behind it all.

Rogue sat calmly on her corner of her desk and crossed her legs leaving her arms in her lap. "Ya'll have a worst experience right?"

Several head in her class nodded.

"Alright, well when Ah absorbed someone. Not only would Ah get their life force but Ah would be in possession of several of their memories. Usually their worst memories and a small part of them stayed within my mind forever reminding me of what Ah had done to them," Rogue forced herself to inhale another deep breath. "Well reliving all of those memories and having all of those voices in your head it starts to make yah go a little crazy. Not to mention if Ah held on to someone long enough Ah could have killed them."

The students were silent digesting the information that had just been given to them by a teacher who was only a few years older than they were themselves.

"Does anyone else have more questions?" Rogue asked politely as again the silence rang through the room. "Good, then if those towards the back of the room would be kind enough to get their row a set of books we can begin."

- - - - -

The end of the day could not come soon enough for Rogue. She rushed up to her room and quickly jumped into the shower to relieve herself from the day's tensions. She got out she toweled her hair dry lightly letting fall naturally around her shoulders in soft curls. She slipped into a tight leather miniskirt and a jade colored top that dipped low on her back and exposed portions of her midriff, not to mention that the thin straps holding it up didn't seem enough to support the top. She wrapped a chain around her neck for a necklace and stashed a few dollars in her top. Her feet slipped into a pair of black heeled boots. She was just finishing the touches on her makeup when there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she cried as she put hoops into the holes in her ears. The door opened to reveal three other women dressed much the same was that she was.

Kitty was dressed in a pink pleated skirt with a slight plaid design and a lacy black tank top that let her stomach poke out. Her feet were in a pair of modest heels that were strappy enough to look good but low enough to that she wouldn't twist an ankle. Jubilee, ever the flamboyant, was wearing a short pair of jean shorts with the edges frayed. She wore a deep red sweater that was cut short across her middle and exposed her shoulders. Her feet though were in a set of combat boots. Betsy arrived and though Rogue knew it wasn't her original body, she could see how the woman had been in modeling. She wore a silky purple halter that hugged to her body and a pair of leather pants with heels.

"Don't we all just look ravishing," Betsy commented as surveyed what each girl was wearing.

Rogue grinned as she looked at everyone. "Ya'll ready?"

They all voiced their consent and headed out of her room. They walked down the front stairs and received a few stares and some daring whistles which only caused the girls to smirk and laugh. They were almost to the garage when Rogue felt a hand on her arm. She turned around to look into Logan's questioning look.

"We need to relieve some stress," Rogue explained simply to her gruff friend.

"Dressed like that?" Logan seemed skeptical. He might have told her he wasn't her father, but that didn't mean he couldn't damn well act like it.

"Yah've gotta get into a club somehow," the southern shared a mischievous look with her friends. Really it was surefire there was a way to get in with at least one telepath among them, but the dress made them feel more like women and was sure to attract some much needed attention. "Besides, Logan, we're X-women. Ah think we can take care of anyone that acts out."

"Don't think this is the best way to relieve stress Stripes," Logan was looking over their group with a fierce desire to lock them all up in the mansion so they would never reach that club.

Rogue looked back at the others again. "Sorry sugah, you were outvoted."

Logan rolled his eyes and huffed. "You girls had best be back by one, there's still class in the morning."

Swiping a striped lock from her face she grinned and hugged Logan. "We'll be good, Ah promise," she whispered into his ear before leading the other girls off. Logan stood there and watched them enter the garage before shaking his head and going to find something to do, maybe he could convince 'Ro to give him back his bike keys.

At the top of the stairs Piotr, Bobby and Warren were awestruck as they watched the women walk out the door.

"I can't believe they didn't invite us!" Bobby said softly, still in a state of shock, but indignant none the less at not being able to go clubbing.

Warren looked down at the other blond. "I think they wanted a girl's night out," personally he didn't mind that they had not been invited to tag along; at least seen the girls walk out.

"Da," Piotr felt the same way Warren did. Not overly crestfallen that they had not mentioned it to them. "They probably want a break."

"I still think we should have been able to go," Bobby was half pouting. That sight alone caused his companions to fall into a fit of laughter.

The girls made it into the club with ease and no telepathic suggestions were needed. Apparently their dress really was enough to get them into the club. Once inside they were engulfed in the flashing lights and blaring music. Right away Rogue could feel the dance floor calling to her. Before she left though they set one ground rule, "If anyone needs help call out telepathically and I'll turn up," Betsy said. The others nodded. That's when Rogue set off to the populated floor.

Rogue worked her way until she found a slightly open space. She closed her eyes and stood still for several minutes letting the music flow through her body. It pounded in the air all around her. She'd done this several times in the darkness of her room to calm herself when she still possessed her 'gift'. It wasn't until the she could feel the heat and smell the sweat through the haze of music that her muscles finally relaxed. Then she began to move. It was slow at first, a swaying of her body sensually to the music.

Her hips moved from side to side as her hands ran up her sides until they were linked above her head. Every so often she would give twist or a bend. She would twirl herself around and just sway to the music, letting her body set its own rhythm. One song bled into another and Rogue took no notice of the fact. Eventually though she did open her eyes. She wasn't surprised to see that when she did this there was a little circle around her and everywhere she looked she could spy lustful stares. Those particular stares caused her to smirk and she continued to dance with her eyes open and inviting, until someone worked up the nerve to dance with her.

Someone finally did get the guts to walk over. She accepted with a sly smile grabbing the man's hand and placing it over her stomach and she leaned back against his chest. The two of them rocked back and forth together. Later it turned into more of the traditional club dancing.

From across the room Rogue's three friends sat at a table after becoming overheated on the dance floor. They were sipping drinks while watching their friend dance from the slightly elevated position the tables gave them.

"Who knew Rogue was such a flirt," Jubilee observed as she took another sip of her drink.

Betsy had a glint in her eyes. "The girl couldn't touch for years, she due for some sort of release."

"What else is there about Rogue that we don't know?" Kitty asked the rhetorical question that was incidentally on each of their minds as they watched the Southerner dance rather seductively against her partner.

- - - - -

A week later and it was Friday. The whole of the teaching staff was in the rec room taking a breather from a long week. A week that had involved one child blowing a hole in the plumbing, causing the water to leak out uncontrollably before Bobby could ice it up temporarily. Hank, Kurt and Ororo were both sitting and reading. Piotr was quietly drawing. Kitty, Jubilee and Bobby were watching the television on one sofa while Betsy and Warren sat on the other. Rogue and Logan were towards the rear of the room engaged in a game of pool.

Rogue leaned over the table and positioned her next shot. The striped seven ball in the far corner. She pulled the wooden length back and forth as it slid smoothly over her fingers. It connected with the ball and went into the corner she had predicted. "Yah goin' down Wolvie," she taunted her opponent who was doing just as well as she was.

Logan huffed while taking another drag of his cigar. He chalked up the end of his stick before aiming at one of the solids. It hit another cluster and caused the other balls to ricochet in various directions making two more solids fall into the pockets. "What were you saying darlin'?"

Rogue made a face before finding her next target. That was of course until a voice interrupted her concentration.

"Remy didn't know de lives of de X-men were so exhilarating," Everyone in the room turned to the doorway which held a tall man with chin length auburn hair. A smirk and a pair of sunglasses marked his face.

Ororo was the first to move setting down her book and striding over to the man to catch him up in a fierce embrace. The man not surprised at all returned the hug. Beside her Rogue could hear Logan growl slightly, which made Rogue smirk. That was until her attention turned back to the Cajun man before her.

"You took your time Remy," Ororo scolded as she stepped back from her long time friend.

"W'at can he say, no one wanted Remy to leave," In several ways this was true. But they didn't need to know the details. He could already tell that despite three of the founding members being deceased the school had not lost its goody-goody feel. He also could tell that he was going to have a hard time avoiding his fan club here, starting with the girl that had answered the door when he rang.

"I am glad you decided to use a door for once," Storm seemed particularly amused about that fact. It was nice however that they wouldn't have to replace anything due to an impromptu fight between Gambit and whoever found him.

Remy's face fell into a casual smile. "Remy remembered how much de lightenin' hurts Stormy," he could see her eyes cloud over slightly at the despised nickname and decided to stop it in its tracks. "Why no' introduce Remy?"

Ororo turned back towards her friends. "This is Remy LeBeau, who I have asked to be our French teacher," Betsy let out a squeal which made 'Ro glare lightly at her. "Yes, Betsy that means you are off of the hook. Anyway, Remy, this is Kurt Wagner," she motioned to the blue tattoo covered mutant that sat in a chair on the other side of the room. He held up one of his three pronged hand in greeting, Remy waved back.

The white haired woman moved down the line introducing, Hank, Kitty, Jubilee, Bobby, Betsy and Warren before she turned towards the pool table. Both of its occupants were leaning against the fixture making comments to each other in hushed voices. Rogue said something that caused Logan to chuckle softly. Ororo smiled as she spied the two, "And this is Logan and beside him is Rogue."

"_Bonjour_," Remy said in way of greeting them all. He had found two uses for sunglasses in his lifetime, one they served as a means to hide his eyes, and secondly they allowed him to look at anyone he pleased without them really knowing. Currently he was looking at the girl called Rogue, something about her sparked in his memory. He wanted to know what exactly it was, but wasn't given the opportunity.

Ororo was pulling him out the door, explaining that she should get him situated before she let him socialize.

Remy grinned down at the woman, "_Merci mère,_ Remy would be lost without y'," She hit him with practiced ease on the arm. Remy was allowed one last glimpse at the girl with striped hair playing pool before he was towed off and into the mansion.

- - - - -

It was Saturday; a day off from the torture of teaching mutant children. Rogue had been woken up sooner than she expected by some bird chirping. Cursing her luck she threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt before heading down to the kitchen. Once inside she placed coffee grounds in the filter and started the machine. She sat down at the table to wait for the sweet caffeine to brew. Slowly her head drifted downwards, finding brief refuge in the center of her arms.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't notice someone enter the kitchen. Rogue didn't really even acknowledge the heady spice smell that swirled around her nose, tempting and tantalizing as it was. Slowly the aroma of coffee reached her nose and her head slowly rose. Keeping her eyes closed she chose to revel in her relaxed state, letting her head fall backwards. A contented moan escaped her lips as she inhaled the scent of the coffee and the spices. After that her body was on auto pilot.

Without noticing another presence or opening her eyes she walked to the cupboard nearest the machine. She put sufficient pressure on her toes as she reached towards the topmost self for her slender fingers to grasp the handle of a mug. A smile graced her face as she set the porcelain on the counter. Her feet padded over towards the stove and retracted a sugar packet. She shook it lightly and flicked the top with her finger before tearing it off and pouring it into her mug. Her hand traveled over towards the coffee pot and poured the correct amount of liquid into her cup. Swirling it slightly she leaned against the counter while taking a long drag.

It was then she opened her eyes, and wished she hadn't.

As luck would have it the other person in the kitchen was none other than Remy LeBeau. It had occurred to Rogue late the previous night where she had glimpsed the Cajun man before. He was the one who had kissed her in the 'Cure' line. She lowered her lids and surveyed him as the silence had yet to be broken.

He was leaning casually against the doorframe to the kitchen, seemingly looking at her much the way she was looking at him now. He wore a worn pair of denims that seemed more like someone's garage jeans than casual wear. A form fitting black tee clung to his chest. It was hard not to appreciate the finely developed muscles enhanced through the material. His arms were left exposed and the tanned flesh was so unlike her pale skin. Her eyes traveled up towards his face. What she saw was straights, angles and sharp edges that most men would be unable to pull off successfully. Auburn hair fell softly around his face, with wispy bangs caressing his eyes—or sunglasses.

Rogue observed the man she had seen before. Again sunglasses covered his eyes. They looked too comfortable on the bridge of his nose to simply be from any corner drugstore. They were there for a reason. If the eyes really were the windows to the human soul, then he was asking for an entry fee first.

There was a reason however that Remy had been quiet for so long, he had been watching the Southern Belle. She was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women he had every seen. And Remy LeBeau has seen plenty of women in his days. He was wondering how a simple pair of jeans could look so good on someone. They rode low on her hips while hugging all of her curves. A small section of stomach peaked out from under the bottom of her shirt, and he was sure it would drive him crazy. Not that the shirt wouldn't, it seemed indecently tight, not that he was complaining though. Slowly his eyes found her face and he sucked in a small breath.

Her face was pale in color to match the rest of her skin tone, but it looked good on her. He could only imagine how soft it would be, it looked as if it would be creamy to the touch. Soft auburn curls fell down her back with two platinum streaks accompanying them at the forefront of her face. That's one of the features he had remembered most about her, the stripes, that enhanced her features considerably. He had first come down to the kitchen to get something to eat before doing a more in depth exploration of the mansion than what Storm had showed him the previous night.

Remy considered himself lucky to have come across the girl just sitting at the table with her head down. It wasn't until after she had lifted her head up that he had realized who it was. The girl he'd met while avoiding Magneto's lackeys. He'd found it amusing to just watch her walk around the room with her eyes closed not even acknowledging his presence. That was of course until she opened her eyes. Normally he would have broken the silence then, but upon seeing her eyes he got lost. Emeralds, she had the most gorgeous eyes he had ever seen.

Rogue seemed content to just ignore the Cajun and continue sipping her coffee. She had moved her eyes from him to _anything_ else in the room.

"_Bonjour chère_," a husky voice drawled.

Her eyes widened in surprise when she realized he was no longer by the door but extremely close to her, reaching for a coffee mug. "Mornin'," she croaked. Really she had been trying to make it more than a whisper, but that would have been the better of two evils.

He chuckled softly after setting a mug on the counter. He had to reach around her; his arm brushing against her chest which she was certain was intentional, before grasping the coffee pot. He poured the hot liquid into his mug before returning it to the machine, this time without coming in contact with her. She watched the movement of his hands the whole time, avoiding eye contact. He seemed content to lean his hip against the counter while watching her. It became too much for Rogue soon enough.

"Quit starin'," she warned lightly.

Remy only smirked. "S'hard not too."

Rogue made a noise of disbelief. "Well try," she took another sip of her coffee letting the caffeinated beverage calm her down and awaken her body.

"Don't t'ink we were properly introduced last night," the Cajun commented clearly hinting to what he was after.

Rolling her eyes Rogue held out a hand, "Rogue."

This amused him for some reason, and irritated her even more. "_Enchanté _Rogue," he took her proffered hand and brought it to his lips, setting a light kiss on her knuckles. "Remy LeBeau at yo'r service."

"Ah'm sure," Rogue took the last swig of the rich liquid in her hand as she tugged the other one from his grasp. She walked over to the sink and deposited the porcelain before heading for the door. She let out a sigh of relief that he obviously did not remember her from before.

"Remy's surprised dat yo're still livin' here," Remy remarked. In truth he was a little surprised that she was still in a mutant mansion when she had been in line to get her powers removed.

"And why's that?" Rogue had turned around to look the Cajun man in the eye, his statement catching her off guard and making her heart race a little faster at what he might say.

"De 'Cure' _chère_, y' took it _non ?_ "

"Ororo didn't mind me stayin' here, not that it's really yahre concern," there went her hopes that he didn't remember her.

Remy smirked, "Not dat Remy won't enjoy havin' y' around. Maybe we finish what we started, _hein_?"

Rogue narrowed her eyes at the Cajun. She was still peeved that he had the gall to kiss a complete stranger and then made her loose her place in line. Suddenly her expression turned saccharine sweet. She lowered her lids and sashayed up towards him. Her nails raked lightly down his cheek. "Maybe that's not such a bad idea."

"_Vraiment_?" He seemed intrigued that she was actually willing.

"_Oui_," Rogue replied softly while putting pressure on her toes and leaning forward. A few inches before her lips would connect with his she brought her hand up and across his cheek. Turning on her heel she strode out of the kitchen, voicing a good morning to the person entering.

Ororo walked in to see her Cajun friend leaning against the counter with a coffee mug in his hand and a small red area across his cheek. She looked over her shoulder at the fading Rogue and back to Remy. Putting the pieces together she glared at her friend. "What did you do?"

"Remy didn't do anythin' Stormy," he said smoothly taking a drink of his coffee with an amused smile across his face. There was definitely something different about the other Southern of Xavier's.

She shook her white haired head while going to the fridge. "You've been here less than twenty-four hours and you already have Rogue disliking you," she closed the metallic door to fix him with a stare.

Remy shrugged clearly not affected by her look. "W'at can he say, Remy works fast."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Again sorry for the wait, I meant to have this out last week but it was a chaotic week to say the least. But I brought Remy, see that counts for an apology. Right? I'm planning to write over the break, but I'll be with family so I'm not sure how that will work out. Anyway sorry for the lengthy period of no update. I made it extra long for that reason. 

_Reviews_ – Thanks for the reviews everyone! _xLiLix_ I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I'll try and get better at that. _Lovestoread_, I'm glad you enjoyed Rogue and Piotr; I always think they would make good friends. I figure that those five would be some of the most dominant psyches in Rogue's head, and their memories are particularly horrible. _Naemis_, thanks for the review, I'm afraid my update wasn't all that speedy.

Coming Up: Southern interaction and classes.

Translations:

French

_Bonjour_ – Good Day/ Hello

_Merci mère_ – Thanks Mother

_Enchanté _– Enchanted

_Chère_ – Dear (a term of endearment)

_Non_ – No

_Vraiment_ – Really

_Oui_ – Yes

Spanish

_Dios míos_ – My god (equivalent to Oh My Gosh)

_Estoy loca. ¡Loca para estoy queriendo enseñar una clase¡Loca es yo! _– I'm crazy! Crazy for wanting to teach a class. Crazy is me!

_Lo siento _– I'm sorry


	7. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER VI**

_'Cause it makes me that much stronger  
Makes me work a little bit harder  
It makes me that much wiser  
So thanks for making me a fighter  
Made me learn a little bit faster  
Made my skin a little bit thicker  
Makes me that much smarter  
So thanks for making me a fighter_

- _Fighter_ by Christina Aguilera

- - - - -

Sunsets are for lovers. There is something about being on another's arms while you watch the sun die and the moon breathe. To watch the sky explode in an array of colors as if the painter had dropped his palette across the landscape. The simple action of watching, while wrapped in the extravagant warmth only provided by human flesh, has appealed through the ages. And yet if lovers observe the sun's slumber, who witnesses its rebirth? Who watches the sun rise?

In truth, not many. This is based on the hectic lives people entertain daily. In the evenings, that sunset serves as a relaxant while the sunrise, another reminder. It tells of the day ahead and the responsibilities. Too often we are preoccupied with the morning ritual to watch the birth of fire. Not many are able to watch the sun rise in all its glory.

Rogue, though, had always had an affinity towards sunrises than sunsets. Maybe it had to do with the fact that sunsets were for lovers and yet another reminder that she was untouchable. Or perhaps it was because she enjoyed the solitude brought on by sunrises. That lull right before the day would begin. Whatever it was it never failed to calm her down. She used to use for meditation, something the Professor has claimed would help with her psyches; help her to push them away and control her powers. That had been his theory. If she would suppress the psyches she should be able to control her powers. Funny thing was, she had tried that for three long years and it never worked. Her weekly sessions with Xavier never helped. But a simple shot took it all away, the pain, the voices, and the curse.

She had always upheld a rather naïve dream that once she gained control of her powers she could return home, back to Meridian. Adopted or not she still considered them her parents. She never really _had_ given them the chance to react to her mutancy.

Her fingers idly skimmed the cool waters held within the fountain. Rogue sat on the edge of the stone, able to feel the frigidity of it even through the thick denim of her jeans. Slowly she lay back until she felt the same frigidity upon her back. Her auburn curls fanned around her head while her fingers worked their way through the liquid. Her emerald eyes stared at the changing sky as she thought back to the last sunrise she had witnessed while in Meridian. It had been as beautiful as it had been terrible. But forever it would be ingrained within her memory, as a constant reminder.

---

It was the first time in twenty years it had gotten this cold during the summer. The bees choose to stay within their hives and the insects sought refuge from the cold. Flowers stood still and slightly wilted in their soil while children remained inside, safe from the unexpected cold front.

Inside the small Central Meridian Hospital, things seemed ever colder.

By nature hospitals are not a cheerful place, often bringing to mind white-washed walls and antiseptic. No matter that, the walls might be covered to appear warmer and the chairs in the waiting room comfortable enough, the feeling still resides. The one that death lingers around, waiting to snatch you into its ever filling collection.

Marie never enjoyed a trip to the hospital. Not even when she was smaller and it meant she'd receive a treat for good behavior. Hell, even vets made her jittery. Some things couldn't be avoided, especially when you're younger. Now, though she could feel her dread of hospitals growing and knotting her stomach painfully in the process.

Her back was against once of the white-washed walls. She was across from his room, David's room. Her arms were cradled against the chill as she still wore the tank top and skirt he had just seen her in. She was waiting to see him, to see if he was alright. He had been in there for hours.

Everything had happened so rapidly it blurred into a haze in her memory. He had kissed her, her first kiss. And then he seemed to have some sort of seizure, dark veins illuminated through his skin. She had pulled back instantly but not enough to not see the veins along her skin too. That's when she started to scream. It wasn't what had happened to David that triggered it; it was that _she_ had done it.

She retreated to the corner near her door and held her head in her hands while sobbing and screaming. She had screamed at her mother to not touch her. They had taken David to the closest hospital, alerting his parents before hand. Her parents had decided to reside in the waiting room, his parents were in his room and she was sitting here, outside looking in. Tiredly her eyelids grew heavier, and it didn't matter that it was still early in the afternoon. The events had exhausted her. She fought to stay conscious but it was a losing battle. Every time she blinked it took her longer to open her eyelids back up again.

Marie opened her eyes to find that the chill was gone, and something soft resided against her arms. Groggily she peaked open an eye to see a blanket draped over her form, by someone from the nursing staff no doubt. She sat their breathing for minutes just to regain her bearings. Once she had that under control she stood up, clutching the warm material against her bare arms. She crossed the feet over to the window that looked in upon David's room. Her gaze clung to his prone form and she felt guilt grab at her stomach. A pair of eyes locked with hers and narrowed with their hate apparent and unhidden.

The click of heels against the tiles alerted her that she was no longer alone in the hallway. No, now she was accompanied by his mother. She had tear rimmed eyes and looked like she had been through hell and back. Somewhere Marie felt a need to make her favorite banana-chocolate chip marshmallow ice cream that she made every time her mother had anything wrong.

_Wait_, she'd never done that.

"Ah'm really sorry Mrs.—" But she was never allowed to finish.

"You bitch."

Marie couldn't believe what she just heard. "Excuse meh?"

David's mother sneered. "You heard me. You good for nothing whore! Something didn't go your way so you decided to take it out on David!"

"That's not—" She couldn't get a whole sentence out, let alone a simple phrase. She kept being cut off. This time though, it was because her head was snapped backwards as a hand met her cheek viciously. She brought her head back, her emerald eyes flashing and let the blanket drop unconsciously.

"Stay away from my son you freak," David's mother screeched.

_She had been good. She was trying to admit that she hadn't actually broken the window, it was Sam's fault. But her mother wouldn't listen instead she was punishing her. It was just like when her little cousin had eaten all of the cookies and gotten sick. She was blamed first for eating the cookies and then cleared from that charge; she was in trouble for not preventing her cousin from eating the cookies. She just couldn't win. It was at this time that she glowered at her mother, wishing some amount of pain on her. _

Emotions washed over her. Love. Hate. Laughter. Tenderness. Anger. Fury.

Marie stood there in shock. She had never felt that way towards her adopted parents. But now she was feeling this towards someone she kept thinking was her mother but wasn't. What was happening to her? Was she losing her mind?

"If I ever see you near him again I'm calling the cops," David's mother held no trace of an accent in her voice and it had disappointed Marie to not hear the southern lilt she was accustomed to on this side of the Mason Dixon line. Yet somehow it triggered something within her.

"Ah'd be careful if Ah were yah. Bad things happen ta bad people, 'member Ma?" She let the blanket fall from around her, to pool at her feet. Not taking her eyes off the older woman as she stepped around the navy cloth.

David's mother could only stare in horror at the girl before her. Her eyes, she could have sworn they had always been a lovely shade of green, but now, now they were brown. They were the same brown that she had always cooed over with David. Somewhere in her she registered that this _girl_ had her baby's eyes. What kind of freak was she?

Marie walked away from her mother without glancing backwards. The audacity of that woman! After everything she'd done for her. She got no respect _that_ was the problem. And even after she'd found about the man, Henry, she'd kept quiet. She had never told her father. She had talked to her mother and they had worked something out. Of course now she'd might just up the stakes. Stopping before the metallic doors of the elevator she swung to see her mother once more. "Oh, and Ma. Don't forget our arrangement," The doors chimed and granted her access to the lift. She stepped inside and let the doors close before her, pressing the button for the lobby.

She stared at her reflection. Since when did she become a girl? With long brown, no auburn hair. Hell, she looked a lot like Marie, except she still had her own eyes. Shaking her head she laughed at her own insanity. She was probably just nervous about her date with Marie on Friday. She looked back up into her eyes again and she noticed something wrong.

Her back hit the bar at the elevators rear with a painful noise. Her breathing became ragged. What was happening to her? Why was she thinking she was a boy? Why was she thinking about going on a date with herself? How the hell did she get brown eyes?

The doors opened and an elderly couple joined her in the lift. Marie scuttled over to one of the rear corners, holding her head in her hands. She was tugging at the roots of her hair as she felt something assault her mind. It was like a migraine, except several times worse. Her head felt like it was splitting open and getting sewn back together again. She let out a whimper.

A wrinkled hand came towards her arm, in a type of comforting gesture. It only served to terrify her more. She moved further into the corner. The woman gave a soft sigh and retreated back to her husband, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Marie looked up to see they were almost to the lobby. She stood shakily, clutching unto the handrail for strength. She observed the elderly couple and felt guilty at her actions.

"Ah'm sorry," she hugged herself, rocking back and forth slightly. "It's just, Ah don't like ta be touched."

There was a ding and the metallic doors opened. Marie practically threw herself away from the lift and sprinted out of the hospital. The couple sauntered out of the metal box, while the woman shook her head lightly at the poor girl's situation.

Marie took a longer way to arrive at her home than she usually would have. She walked through the ornate front doors and straight up to her bedroom. She never saw her parents sitting in the living room, watching her. She simply went up to her room and laid down on her bed, wrapping her blankets all around her body. Her body was still while her mind kept going over the events of that day.

What had she done? She'd hurt David hadn't she? But how? That was the worst thing of all this, she didn't know how she had hurt him. One minute she was kissing him, her first kiss mind you, and then the next he was having some sort of seizure. He'd been fine before, before he kissed her. So obviously that meant it wasn't him. Then, maybe…oh gawd, maybe it was her! She was the reason he was in the hospital. Just like his mother had accused her, it was her fault. How could she stay here and face them everyday? Truthfully she didn't think she could.

She's always been a runner.

As a child she broke one of the window's downtown when she's been tossing a tennis ball. The lime fuzz had gotten the better of her and went straight through the window. The loud clinking made by the breaking glass was her signal to run. And she did. And then when she was a little older she and her friends had thought it would be fun to try smoking, just once. That way they would know exactly why it was so bad for them. Unfortunately their timing was bad and someone from the school spotted them. Everyone scattered but Marie was far ahead. She had experience in running.

Her mother opened her door at some point. The old hinges creaked loud enough to wake her if she was truthfully asleep. She lay still in her bed, her breathing shallow and her green eyes boring a hole in the wall opposite her. She heard footsteps and then her mother sigh.

"She'll be better in the morning," her father whispered, putting his arm around her mother's shoulders.

She barely heard the "Ah suppose," her mother breathed in response. Two sets of footsteps walked away and her door creaked shut once again.

The red numbers on the clock next to her read eleven twenty-three. Marie set her head back down on her pillow and fisted her hands within her hair again as the pain increased once again. She closed her eyes and waited for it to go away, to leave her alone. When she could glimpse the numbers without seeing them dancing they appeared as one fifty-seven in the morning.

Marie shook off her covers and swung her legs over the side. She arranged the sheets again, making her bed up the way her mother insisted she did. She walked slowly over towards her closet and pulled out a large green, army duffle. She placed it on her bed and began throwing random pieces of clothing into it. Satisfied she changed into a pair of genes, a long sleeve shirt and her forest green coat with a thick hood. She wrapped one of her favorite scarves around her neck. She surveyed the room once more. She had placed a few more things in her duffle before zipping it shut. Glancing back at the map she had talked to David about earlier that day she noticed something, a picture, or her parents and her. Stepping gently on the bed she ripped it from the wall and stuff it inside her pocket. She walked over towards her desk and ran her fingers lightly over some of her things. She relished the feeling.

But she realized she'd forgotten on thing. Gloves. If she was truly the cause for David's episode, then she would need to cover herself from head to toe, and hands were essential. She dug through her closet and found a brand new pair of leather gloves. They went up to her elbows. It was a birthday present, from someone she didn't know. It had arrived one day for her. She never knew who the sender was. She'd never worn them though, she hated gloves. Suddenly she had the sinking feeling she'd be more acquainted with them then she would have ever wanted.

Stepping over to her window, Marie opened it up. She hefted her duffle bag up and over the sill, letting it drop to the roof below. She stuck one leg out the window before following with the other and her feet made a small thud as they hit the roof. She walked towards the edge and dropped the duffle over the side and then turned her attention to the tree. It was close to the roof and she was positive that she could jump to that and then shimmy down to the ground. It happened in movies all the time, why couldn't she do it?

Perhaps it was because the movies always had a stunt double to take all the hurt. Marie had no such thing.

Steeling herself she walked back towards her window and then closed her eyes to take a calming breath. Then she ran and jumped. Her chest crashed painfully against a branch she had landed horizontal to. Her whole body was tingling, but she was alive. She crawled over to the trunk and then used the other branches to near the bottom, finally falling the last few feet. Marie landed head over heels in an ungraceful pile.

She stood up and dusted herself off lightly. She would be sore in the morning, well later in the morning. She swung the duffle up and across her shoulder. She began to walk away from her house, but turned back to gaze at her window. The light wind was ruffling her sheer curtains.

Marie couldn't help but wish she was still inside.

That couldn't happen though. She couldn't stay here any longer. David's mother was one thing; everyone else would most likely feel the same way as the wretched woman. And Marie wouldn't get away from them as easily as she had from his mother. She supposed now that she was leaving she would need a different name. And to tell the truth Marie had never sat right with her. It was too bland, it was missing something, she could just never figure out what. She was almost like a fugitive now. A criminal. A rogue.

Rogue. She liked that. It gave people the message to stay away from her. And until she figured out what was wrong with her, that's exactly what she needed.

Marie gave her house one last glance before raising her gloved fingers to her lips and placing a soft kiss, letting the wind blow it back towards her home. She didn't belong here anymore. She wasn't Marie anymore, she was Rogue. She walked away towards the nearest bus stop with her head held a little higher than it had been a few hours ago.

---

Many things had changed that day. She had taken on a new name and a new attitude. She'd let Marie retreat slowly into a portion of her mind. But that was common among most mutants. No matter they all had an alter ego, and they were ever named. Their alter ego was bent first and foremost on their own survival and the survival of their race. They could fight on the side of violent acceptance or peaceful, but they were still fighting. And their alter ego would be the one leading the charge, with the human portion tucked away safely in their minds.

She was Rogue.

Just as Scott had been Cyclops, Ororo was Storm, Kitty was Shadowcat and John was Pyro and many others had their respective names. The difference was she preferred to be referred to by her alter ego, her mutant name or her true name. Most would assume Logan would be that way, but he hated being reminded of all the horrible thing he had done as _Wolverine_. Many of those on Magneto's side had taken to being referred to by just their _true_ name.

But there was not a single mutant who did not possess an alter ego in them.

The sun had risen while Rogue had been lost within her thoughts and memories. Glancing at the beginnings of shadows she figured more members of the mansion would be awake now. She remembered idly that she had to help Logan with Danger Room sessions this morning. She cursed her bad luck as she walked back into the mansion. She jogged up the stairs and into her room, stopping before her closet in thought. Finally she pulled out a pair of yoga pants and a tank top made from spandex made especially for exercise. A track jacket slid over her shoulders to fight off the chill and the need to cover her skin. She secured her long auburn hair before heading down to the lower levels.

Today was one of the days she and Logan were to help the younger students gain control of their powers and depending on their control a brief Danger Room session. Rogue didn't know how much help she would be with helping the students with control, but she knew she'd be required to keep Logan patient. The metallic doors slid open and the sight before her made her smile.

Standing in an almost scared group were the students. Some of them had terror written across their face while others were attempting to act nonchalant. It was hard to act anything but terror when Logan was right in front of you, yelling.

"Jewelry? Where did you think we were goin'? The mall?"

Amara stood before Logan quaking, making her earrings bob back and forth. Her hand was nervously sliding the pendant on her necklace from left to right. Tabitha was beside her with the same amount of jewelry displayed upon her features. Her earrings were considerably smaller, but a necklace hung around her neck not to mentions golden bangles around her wrists. Unlike Amara, Tabitha seemed almost bored with Logan's yelling.

Rogue walked around the side of the mutant teens and to her friend's side. "Don't be so harsh Logan. They'll learn their own mistakes," She turned towards the students, several of who seemed particularly relieved that someone had shown up to calm Wolverine.

"Suppose yer right Stripes," Logan's face turned into a malicious smile. "It's more amusing that way."

"Ah, to watch them suffer so," her eyes were twinkling as a smirk slid across her features. "It's magical."

"You two are sick," Ororo was up in the balcony to monitor the session incase anything would go wrong and also to monitor that the two did not inflict too much damage upon the students. Rogue turned and sent a kiss and flirtatious wink up at the control room.

The southerner surveyed the teens before her thoughtfully. They were all assembled in the clothes they had most likely been wearing previously; most consisting of jeans and a shirt of some type. Fortunately all of the female students had enough insight to forgo to route of wearing a skirt to the session. True, it was possible to fight in a skirt or dress, but it was harder and not for beginners.

"Next session, yah should all wear something that you can move easily in. Or we'll give you something to wear," Rogue commented before looking at Logan to see what they were to do first in the room.

"Logan's in jeans though," Tabitha pointed out.

"Logan has been fighting long enough that he can move easily in different clothes. Denim's stiff and harder for beginners."

Logan was still less than pleased about having to teach, but at least he had Rogue to help. "Alright Munchkins, we're going to start with a fairly easy exercise, its obstacle course, mutant style."

The teens started up an excited chatter amongst themselves. This was their first Danger Room experience and they were all positive that they would do fantastically. Of course Rogue had never really been that ignorant in her skills. She had had too many people become _frisky_ with her as she found her was to Canada. The only way she'd been able to fight them off was with her powers.

"Activate Rookie 009," Logan announced to the chrome room.

As everyone in the mansion they had witnessed a few sessions from the confinements of the control room. The teens were so entranced to see their surroundings changing they didn't hear the female voice initiate the sequence. Before the group was not a typical obstacle course. This course consisted of a jungle setting, full with closer quartered trees and other greenery, perhaps all of the insects on the planet too.

"The objective of this simulation is to make it though the jungle and past various obstacles that you encounter. You will need to use your powers to get you through portions. Anyone who can successfully run the course without the use of their powers will automatically win, otherwise its first come, first serve. Rogue and I'll be going through the course to make sure no one hits any snags. Any questions?" Logan looked over the group with one of the cigars he hide somewhere on his person. "Good, Go."

A silence rang through the assembled jungle group before they registered they were supposed to begin the course. Several of the students teamed up for better chances of survival. Rogue and Logan exchanged a look before heading in opposite directions to monitor the students.

Rogue ran through the brush careful to avoid the lashings the branches would issue by covering her face with her clothed arms, her hands balling the cloth for protection. She scanned the area for any students but saw none and kept her course. That was until she heard a frightened scream followed closely by another. She ran quickly towards the source.

Her emerald eyes were met with the sight of Tabitha and Amara being stalked by a rather large looking black panther. _Funny_, she thought upon gazing the ebony puma, which was often referred to as having a mutation. Her attention was back on the girls with another shriek from Amara. They were clutching at one another as they backed away from the approaching feline. Their eyes were frantic and darting around the foliage for assistance.

Tabitha glanced towards Rogue. "Help!"

Rogue took up a relaxed casual stance while she looked at them. "Use yahre powers."

"Don't you think we tried that already! They aren't working!" Amara shrieked back.

Taking a breath, Rogue instructed them to do the same. "That's because yah need to calm down. Your emotions are messing with your control."

"Kinda hard with a freakin' panther after us!"

Sighing Rogue ran forward and kicked one of the cat's legs, her foot connecting hard. She spun around and kicked it in the stomach which, combined with the injured leg caused it to crouch down in pain. A few more hits and she was back to Amara and Tabitha. "Come on, let's go. It's not going to stay down forever."

The girls didn't protest. Rogue had them run before her through the brush. Amara was suddenly jerked backwards. She clutched her neck where a prickly branch had become entangled within her necklace. Rogue went forwards and yanked the chain from her neck, and then let it pool in the other girls hand.

"That's why you don't wear jewelry," she turned when she heard a rustle of leaves from behind them. "Boom Boom throw a bomb behind us."

"What? Weren't you listening, my powers aren't working!"

"Yah need to calm down, take a few breaths and then try to make one, even a small one," Rogue instructed with a smooth voice. "Amara, try this also."

Both girls tried to decrease their breathing while their bodies fidgeted and their eyes darted around the jungle with every small movement. Rogue shook her head and walked closer to the two of them. "Close your eyes," the girls complied and then she set them to breathing again. "Concentrate on mah voice, nothin' else," Slowly their breathing went down and the muscles in their body went lax. "Good, now Boom Boom Ah want you ta create a time bomb for meh and Magma try to power up."

Tabitha's hands formed a bowl and a bright yellow sphere, almost like a wiffle ball, appeared within them. Amara, likewise, took on a fiery appearance, her whole form engulfed in what appeared to be magma. Both girls opened their eyes, thoroughly surprised with their selves and joyous at the same time.

"Congratulations," Rogue smiled at the two teens. "Now, Boom Boom throw the bomb a ways back. Magma make a good sized ditch behind where she throws the bomb."

They did as she instructed and made a sizable obstacle for the panther should it decide to follow them. Rogue left through the leaves while they were congratulating a success. She shook here head wondering if she had been that bad once, too scared to use her powers properly.

That thought made her stop in her tracts. Hadn't she always been afraid of her powers? Afraid of what she would see in people's heads. Afraid of how they would react to her gift. Afraid of the accompanying pain, and mostly afraid of secretly enjoying the use of her powers. That one horrified her to no end, and that was the driving force for her choice in the cure.

Now wasn't the time to reflect on her past choices. She jogged through the trees again before she spotted Danielle Moonstar by herself. Upon closer inspection, Rogue noticed that she wasn't alone but merely her partner, Rusty Collins had fallen waist deep in quicksand. Taking a deep breath she realized this session was going to take most of the morning.

- - - - -

In the control room above, Ororo was monitoring each student's, or in this case pair, as they progressed across the jungle. Rogue and Logan were helping any that were in trouble as they chanced upon them. It appeared as if Rogue was trying to genuinely help the students while Logan seemed more frustrated with ever misfortunate child. Shaking her head, she could only thank the Goddess that she had the foresight to include Rogue in the sessions.

"Y'know Remy t'ink y' should have started a little lower wit' de _enfants_," his voice seemed extremely close to her ears and in truth it was, because his head was next to hers observing the screens before him. "De gettin' killed."

Ororo regarded him and changed her gaze to the display. "It's not that bad, Wolverine and Rogue are assisting with the students."

"Not dat bad. Stormy, dat boys in quicksand," Remy pointed to the monitor in the center while held three figures. One of which held a mop of short cut tomato colored hair that was going ever lower into the thick liquid encasing him. Near his form were a dark haired girl and one with auburn hair and a familiar white streak.

"Rogue's there to help, she'll make sure he gets out," they could both hear the hanging _I hope_, left in the air.

- - - - -

"Dani!" Rogue exclaimed to the hysterical girl next to her. "Don't look at Rusty, look at meh," the teen complied. "Excellent, now try conjuring a stick, a large stick," she felt the need to clarify, knowing that the girl could only hold one illusion at a time to turn solid.

A piece of birch appeared beside the Cheyenne girl. Rogue smiled as she took up half of it, checking to see if it would be long enough. Mirage grasped the other half while Rogue walked around to the other edge of the trap while cursing swamps and their inhabitants the whole time. Not to mention a certain three clawed mutant who included an unrealistic portrayal of quicksand for 'danger' purposes. Normally quicksand is denser than a human body, apparently this kind was not. Both females lowered the branch to above Rusty, who struggled to free his arm enough to grasp the branch. Once that was accomplished, they began to slowly lift the branch out of the quicksand until Rusty was free enough to crawl to one end or the other.

"This is the stupidest jungle I've ever seen," Russel complained while attempting to burn away the sand that stuck to his clothing.

Rogue snorted, whole heartedly agreeing with the boy. "Maybe yah can give Logan some tips!" She yelled as she went in search of another pair that would need her help.

"Isn't that your job!" Rusty called back.

- - - - -

Ororo let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Giving Logan the assignment of training the new mutants was one thing, letting him pick and possibly design the Danger Room session in which to use was something she should have prevented.

"So besides scarin' de kids, w'at de point of dis lesson?" Remy asked while his eyes followed the movements of the skunk-haired girl around the room. She was more capable than one would think of someone without mutant powers.

She winced as she noticed a student get whacked in the face by a tree branch. "It's supposed to teach them how to control their powers under _stressful_ situations."

"Somehow, Remy t'inks dey've got a long way to go," he couldn't help but grimace at the sight of one of the teens shoot off what appeared to be electricity, similar to Storm's lightening, at a large creature. The teen's aim was grossly off and he hit a tree instead, causing it to crash down near his partner.

"In that regard, I would have to agree with you," Ororo looked up at the ceiling trying to think what had possessed her to believe this would be an excellent idea. Whatever it was, it was surely looking down and laughing.

- - - - -

Rogue was in the middle of a maze Logan had constructed, looking for any of the students. No doubt a few were lost somewhere within the maze. She could safely say that she was getting tired of seeing the constant greenery. To her delight the greenery melted away and left the room as it usually would be a large metallic dome. She could now see that there had in fact been several students stuck in the maze. Not to mention others littered various sections of the room. What drew everyone's attention was the sight of who had just walked in; Betsy.

"I'm sorry," Betsy smiled sheepishly. "I wasn't aware you had a session occurring."

Silently Rogue shook with laughter she was trying to suppress.

Wolverine glared at the Asian girl while his sensitive hearing picked up on the laughter Rogue was trying so hard to contain. His eyes flicked between the two older women to the students in the room. "That's alright, Psylocke. You just volunteered for a demonstrative spar."

Betsy's demeanor sunk. She should have known she couldn't simply walk in and then out again. Rogue was having an even harder time trying not to laugh with the onset of this news.

"With Rogue."

Laughter wasn't an issue anymore.

Mentally she berated herself for forgetting Logan had superior hearing. She was one to know, she'd possessed it at one time or another. Grudgingly she made her way over to Betsy who like her counterpart, was wearing capri's and a tank top. "Congratulations," she muttered.

"It's not like I knew," Betsy whispered back.

Rogue coughed with something that sounded an awful lot like telepath. Betsy in response showed her a picture of Magneto in drag. The two continued to project images back and forth, each flinching every once and awhile. The students watched the two curiously but didn't mention anything.

"Up to the control room," Logan ordered gruffly, watching as the students filed out and up towards the control room. "I'll put in the sequence once we're all upstairs," he left the Danger Room leaving the two women to stare blankly at each other with the same worried expression on their faces.

- - - - -

Remy and Ororo were not entirely enthused with having so many bodies in the room. Although it could hold several people, the Control room limit was usually under ten. Ororo looked pointedly at Logan who returned the look.

"You said I could train them however," Logan reminded the weather goddess. He was itching to take out a cigar, but he knew she would never allow it around the children, or herself. She always told him that _he_ might have a healing factor but the rest of them didn't.

"That doesn't mean I'm prevented from retracting the statement," Storm muttered knowing full and well that he would be able to hear her statement.

"Then give me my keys back," Logan grinned knowing that in all likelihood she would not return his keys until he had admitted to stay and teach.

True to his assessment she turned back towards the monitors. "What program are they running?"

"Two person spar, 408."

- - - - -

Rogue and Betsy watched as the landscape around them changed into a simple wooden room. It looked Japanese in style and could have easily been a simple training room. There was a mat for flips and a rack of assorted weapons to practice with. Unlike most practice weapons, several of these were of metal and not wood. The floors and walls were both of a light colored wood, it looked almost like bamboo. The walls looked rather flimsy, but there was no doubt that they would hold up if anything was thrown against them.

Green and purplish eyes met, each holding a worried and apologetic emotion.

"It's a simple spar. Psylocke can use her powers if she feels it necessary. Otherwise it goes until one of you is pinned," Logan's voice echoed through the room.

Rogue shrugged and set a kick towards Psylocke, who artfully dodged. Stepping a few paces backwards she did handsprings sending her feet crashing into Rogue's stomach. Rogue as a result had stumbled backwards, barely regaining her footing. She dodged Psylocke's punches to deliver her own to the other woman's chest. She fell to a split once Psylocke tried to kick at her head. Rogue ached backwards, her hands meeting the mat and rolled her body upwards so that her feet would connect with Psylocke's chin. Unfortunately the purple headed mutant saw ahead of time what Rogue's plan was.

Breathing deeply they both looked at each other before attacking one another again.

- - - - -

"Did you see that?" Most all of the teenagers had their faces pressed against the glass windows that lined the control room. Remy, Ororo and Logan kept to watching the monitors that gave off a much more detailed view of the happenings below. Of course they would never tell that to the students.

"She totally went Charlie's Angels down there!" One of the girls noticed.

One of the newer students tore their gaze away from the sparring to glance back at the three instructors. "So, what—the teachers spend all their time here trying to kill each other? This place is so cool!"

A boy next to him leaned over and whispered, "You should have been here a few years ago. It was like a soap opera," he began to do into details about what exactly had happened in those days.

"Remy t'ink dis spar was _une bonne idée_," Behind his glasses he was watching the match as closely as the teens.

Ororo noticed his gaze on the screen and elbowed him in the ribs to which he protested fiercely accompanied by a few choice phrases in French. Those phrases caused him to receive another elbow from Ororo.

- - - - -

"Rogue, you fight like a girl!" Psylocke exclaimed as she stared down at the fallen southern woman.

"It's what Ah am Psylocke," Rogue stood up, wiping off her hands. One of them reached backwards and extracted a knife from the weapons rack behind her. Fluidly she launched the knife at the purple haired woman who barely registered the knife in time to move. She swore rather vulgarly which caused Rogue to smirk slightly. "But pretty accent an' all, with a mouth like that…you sure ain't no lady."

Psylocke laughed as she watched Rogue extract a wooden stave from the rack. She raised a questioning brow when Rogue tossed it over towards her.

"Ah figure we've got everyone watching. Why not put on a show," Rogue displayed mischief on her face plain and simple. And it was infectious. She couldn't help but grin as she discarded her jacket.

Swinging the wooden length around her arm, Psylocke brought it to lie across her chest. Rogue took up a similar stance. As if on cue, both moved so that the quarter staff was in a ready position before they ran towards once another. Psylocke brought her staff up towards Rogue's head. The stripe haired girl moved her hands apart on the wood and raised it above her head to block the blow.

Breaking apart Psylocke kept attacking, alternating between high, low and middle blocks. Rogue blocked each and every one, but was forced backwards until she hit the wall. From there she offered her partner an apologetic smile as she brought her leg up and kicked the other woman away from her. Psylocke stumbled but twirled her quarterstaff around her wrist on each side of her body. Rogue coupled her actions before attacking with her staff.

They went on like that for several minutes. On opposite sides of the room they shared a look before both falling over. They lay on the mat for longer than thirty seconds, triggering the Danger Room session to end. The room faded back to its metallic luster. Rogue collected her jacket and headed out the door with Betsy. They waited until they were safely out of the metal room before letting out their laughter.

- - - - -

Saturday nights were something to be treasured at the Institute. For one the younger students were permitted to go about the mansion for an extra hour past their normal time. But also because Sunday would arrive the next day and it would be relatively quiet due to various children completing the work they had placed off for the weekend.

Perhaps the best thing about Saturday nights was the long standing tradition, held by the older students, of a movie night. Tonight it was the girls turn to pick a movie. They had picked _The Devil Wears Prada_, hoping that maybe the guys would find something funny in it. If not, they could always enact revenge the next week when it was their pick.

Rogue came in to the room with snacks tumbling out of her arms. It was always true that whoever was sent to get snacks would have the last choice of seats unless someone kept one aside for them. They were also responsible for turning out the lights. Struggling slightly she managed to hit the lights with her elbow while she constricted her hold on the

Given that there were more present than there used to be some people were required to sit on the floor if no one felt like being squashed. Betsy and Warren were sitting on the loveseat with Jubilee squeezed to one of the sides. Neither Betsy nor Warren complained to the crowded position as it gave them an excuse to be closer to one another. Piotr took up the corner of another couch with Kitty next to him, completely planned so that she could be near him. Bobby sat next to her with between him and the corner that Remy sat.

_Well this won't be awkward, _Rogue thought to herself. Betsy picked up on the thought and snickered as a result making Rogue glare slightly at her.

Residing herself to her fate, she deposited the snacks on the coffee table and took up her seat between the two males. Rogue sank into the cushions with her gaze fixed on the television while the movie began. For the most part she watched the movie. Girlish movies weren't exactly her favorite, but this one had definite comedy to it. She watched as different scenes of Anne Hathaway and Meryl Streep washed across the screen.

She was watching the screen. And yet she felt as if something was watching her. She could hear the words "A million girls would kill for this job," filter through the speakers and yet it sounded muffled to her. She knew it wasn't, it had been crystal clear a few seconds ago, before she felt someone's gaze. Casually she leaned forward and took a sip from her glass, surveying the room under lowered lashes.

Warren and Betsy were leaning into each other a little more than necessary, but both watched the screen. Jubilee was watching intently while chewing her ever present piece of gum. Piotr and Kitty would occasionally give one another a quick, embarrassed look before their eyes flitted back towards the screen so that other wouldn't catch them staring. Bobby could care less about the movie, but was watching it due to his boredom. Remy…well she couldn't tell where the hell Remy was looking due to his sunglasses. She still hadn't figured out the reasoning behind them.

Rogue took another sip of her drink while she looked at Gambit. By nature he was self-centered and arrogant, thinking himself God's gift to women. He had a right to be that way too. He clearly was crafted for woman to drool over. She'd witnessed a Danger Room session he'd performed and was surprised with his skill. She could even admit that he was devilishly handsome. Not that she would ever admit that aloud, or to him or anyone else. She wouldn't have even thought it in the presence of a telepath if she didn't have her shields up and a very _distracted_ telepath around.

Realizing she was staring she set her glass down and sat back again, inching a bit away from the Cajun next to her. Although no matter how she moved she could still smell his aroma of tobacco, musk and spices, not to mention a bit of leather from his preferred trench coat. She couldn't help the natural deep inhalation that her lungs took to gather more of his scent to her nose. There wasn't any harm in looking, and smelling.

She tried desperately to focus on the movie once again, but found she couldn't. Her thoughts kept drifting to the man next to her. And then every so often she would feel a heated gaze again that would make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up pleasantly. Not to mention a small shiver would work its way down her spine.

It was perhaps the longest hour and a half she'd had in her entire life.

Eventually the movie ended and they all switched to watching random things on the television. Someone would flip the channels until something caught one person's eye. The hours ticked by and gradually people left the room to go find the refuge of their bed. Bobby was the last to leave, wishing Rogue and Remy a barely audible "Night," as he yawned at the same time. The light from the television would illuminate the room every so often, highlighting their faces and hurting their eyes. Rogue wasn't sure when she started to get tired she usually wasn't tired. She had suffered frequent insomnia due to her powers, so little sleep never hurt her. Apparently two Danger Room sessions told her differently. She definitely couldn't remember when the television had turned off and when she had closed her eyes.

- - - - -

Rogue liked nothing more than waking up on the couch, to be warm under a blanket and the pillows billowing underneath her, with her head to be perched against a stack of well arranged pillows. Or simply one carefully propped pillow. From the way her head was, she guessed she only had one pillow. It was an odd place to sleep, but terribly comfortable nonetheless. Clutching the hem of her blanket she brought balled fists near her chin. Her legs curled further towards her body as she took a deep inhalation. Despite the fact that it was the rec. room, it smelled incredible. An aroma of spices, musk and something undeniably masculine. She smiled as she snuggled closer to her pillow, noticing how it smelled just as good, if not better than what she had sensed before. Yes, this was definitely how she preferred to wake up.

That was until her pillow _moved._

Not only moved but inhaled and exhaled and then slowly a warm weight fell around her shoulders. She turned so that the arm fell against her chest. Her eyes opened to observe the tanned skin before her. Her fingers turned the hand over to skin over calloused hands. Satisfied she arched her neck back to look into the eyes of the arm's owner. Her eyes were clouded over with sleep as she looked into the crimson and onyx eyes of her 'pillow'. She set her head back down and closed her eyes once more.

Thirty seconds later her eyes popped open and she bolted into a seated position. Her eyes locked with now tinted glass covered eyes, and she felt a wave of horror flood through her. She distanced herself to the other half of the couch, practically falling off. She looked across again before bringing the blanket over her head.

She uttered a mantra of "No,"' as her blanket balled fists crashed down upon her head.

Remy observed her, highly amused by her actions. She was certainly one of a kind. Most girls reactions were what hers had been at first, her second reaction had truthfully never happened before. He was glad however that he had found his sunglasses in time. She probably wouldn't remember it. Many women liked his eyes; they found them enchanting, saying it added to his appeal. And then countless others were frightened by them. They would scream, and it was a sound he could never bare to listen too. It didn't matter what Ororo said, mutants could he just as harsh as humans when it came to his eyes.

He shifted his weight to lean forward on the couch. He caught her hands before they hit their target another time. Confused Rogue raised her blanketed head towards his figure. "Y' gonna cause brain damage dat way _chère_,"

Rogue in the meantime was in several different stages of panic. Had she really just fallen asleep on top of the Cajun? Had she really snuggled into to him? Why had she suddenly thought she say red on black eyes? For what seemed the hundredth time she wondered why he wore sunglasses at all times of the day and night. Were those his eyes? Recounting the brief glimpse she had witnessed she recalled the how the red would flare and flicker brighter. They had to be the most gorgeous eyes she had ever seen. Too bad it was most likely a figment of her imagination.

Pulling the blanket from her head she stared the Cajun straight in the eye, or sunglasses lens. "Ah was tryin' to repress this memory. Now if you don't mind," she motioned her head towards her wrists which he still held.

"Y' sure dis a memory y' want to repress?"

"Yes," Rogue answered vehemently which only caused the man opposite her to chuckle and irritate her more.

"Denial is a tricky t'ing. Y' might want to start trackin' w'at step y' on," Remy smirked down at her with the same lazy grin his features always molded too.

"Why you—"

Rogue stopped mid-sentence when Remy suddenly uncovered one of her hands and slowly brought it towards his face. He kept his gaze locked with her own as he brushed a brief kiss across her knuckles. Them graceful as a cat he leapt over the side of the couch and strode out the door. Rogue was left to look at her exposed hand with the memory of his lips against her skin. A few moments later she shock was replaced by anger, as she plotted to 'kill that Swamp Rat and make some Gumbo from the remains'. Although the flush that appeared on her cheeks could not honestly be played off on anger.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Apparently I'm not just not able to get this out by my goal. The next one will be at least a few weeks wait, because I have finals starting Tuesday and then Winter Break directly following. I added in the Romy scene at the end because I felt bad for the wait. And it makes me laugh. 

_"Rogue you fight like a girl!" , "It's what I am Psylocke. But pretty accent an' all, with a mouth like that...you sure ain't no lady."_ -- From X-treme X-men #3. And then _"So, what—the teachers spend all their time here trying to kill each other? This place is so cool!" -- _From Astonishing Xmen (third series) #1 or #2 (Thanks Ashandaei)

_Reviews_ – _xLiLix_, I'm glad you liked how Rogue acted. It seemed like something she would do. Yeah I realize my Spanish was off…it was a little rushed. _Lovestoread, _I'm happy you enjoyed the chapter. Betsy is amazing, I couldn't help but add her to the roster. _Lee_, Rogue's powers are coming back _very_ soon. Hint, Hint.

Coming Up: Lockdown and Denial: Stages 1-6.

Translations:

_Enfants _– Children

_Une bonne idée – _A good idea

_Chère –_ Dear (a term of endearment)


	8. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER VII**

_You're not in this alone  
Let me break this awkward silence  
Let me go, go on record  
Be the first to say I'm sorry  
Hear me out,  
And if you take me down  
Or would you lay me out  
And if the world needs something better  
Let's give them one more reason now, now, now_

- _Skylines And Turnstiles_by My Chemical Romance

- - - - -

Infatuation is the driving force behind several things, and the downfall of others. But the capability is within every being whether by choice or not. It was there and would remain there until the end of days, affecting each in its own way. For some they are content to watch silently to sate their sudden addiction. For others they have to make their interest known even challenge others for that, which enraptured them, and in most cases annoying the hell out of those near them and especially that, which interests them.

Remy clearly had some infatuation with Rogue, but he simply chose to flirt and annoy her until she wanted to make gumbo from his remains.

Such was the case one afternoon in the library. At least once a week the girls would meet in what they had dubbed their table to grade papers while exchanging any gossip or news they've heard. Betsy had at first come simply for the gossip but Ororo had given her something to work on shortly after Remy had arrived. She had complained at first but learning that she was to help teach History with Warren kept her quiet and content. Still the task was mundane.

Rogue was looking over the essays she'd assigned her sophomores on the current book they were reading, which happened to be the classic _Old Man and the Sea_. Personally she didn't care for the book, but it was one that she'd had to cover and it had some values that she might be able to sink into the student's heads. Currently though she was close to tears because of the way the teens had butchered the English language.

"Ah swear if Ah see any more 'I think', Ah'm gunna need to break something!"

Jubilee laughed. "Simmer down, there's more fish to fry."

Rogue only rolled her eyes. It figured Jubilee wouldn't be bothered about little things like grammar; she'd always used Rogue as her personal grammar check. Although, the paper was almost always accompanied by some form of chocolate. For the most part, it was an even trade. She mumbled something about fish and fillet while grading another paper.

That was, until Jubilee threw up her arms and pushed the paper as far away from her as possible. The other girls looked up skeptically at their friend. "I think I need some gossip."

Almost at the same time everyone rolled their eyes. Jubilee was dreadful at multitasking when it came to exchanging exciting news.

"So, who's startin' the bid?" Rogue asked looking down at what she was grading again. Jubilee might be unable to gossip and work, but Rogue had learned how to be _this_ efficient.

"I've got sessions with a kid that can turn himself into a fish," Kitty provided, having been reminded by the earlier fish comments. She scanned through several stacks of photographs set before her.

"Weak," Betsy commented with a disapproving expression. She had a flare for idle chatter and enjoyed it almost as much as the ever-vibrant Jubilee.

Kitty looked up with a scowl. "Raise the bet or fold."

The purple haired woman only smirked, having something mischievous tucked into her metaphorical sleeve. "Danger Room session with _Angel_, in which I so tragically "fell" from a building. Resulting in a rather enjoyable ride in the arms of that deliciousness," she finished by licking her lips, obviously reminiscing the memory.

Jubilee scoffed, "Some people have all the luck," Tapping her pencil to her temple, as if in thought, she added, "That's a mighty tall stake. Any contenders?"

The way the game was played was similar to poker. Everyone came with varied stories to tell. Each would present one, with everyone else trying to beat the person who last went. When someone had the highest bid, they would be required to recall the whole portion of the tidbit, leaving out all the stops. Then it would follow in descending order until they ran out of gossip. Of course they could always find other things to talk about when the need arose, but this method was fool proof and had worked several times in the past.

"Ah raise walking in to the garage while _several_ of the resident males were working on choice vehicles."

"Rogue, that's more of a demotion than a raise," Kitty pointed out while she scrutinized the photographs before her, choosing one with a close up of a tree, and setting it aside.

Rogue looked down at her work, marking a few more mistakes. "Oh, did Ah mention they were shirtless," She looked up to see their response, letting her words sink in. "And," She took careful measure to draw the one word out. "Ah have pictures."

That caused the others to drop their things with audible crashes in some cases. They watched with rapt attention as Rogue drew out the so-called pictures. She separated the large stack and gave one set to each of the other women. They looked over them appreciatively. Betsy whistled, while Kitty murmured her agreement.

Jubilee was the first to regain control of her mouth. "_Damn_ girl. How'd you manage these?"

"It was quite interestin' actually," Rogue claimed while she set her work aside for the moment.

---

It was one of those days, the one where everything that could possibly go wrong would. Her alarm had chosen that morning to cease its miserable existence. Therefore she woke up too late to shower. She quickly slung on a pair of dark jeans, with a hole in the knee and upper thigh, letting her pocket lining show through. She pulled out the closest shirt from her dresser before grabbing her bag. She sparred a second to look at the state of her hair. Curls, it was in the natural curls she usually tried to flatten out. She searched her room for a quick rinse of mouthwash before bolting from her room, stuffing her sneakers on her feet all the while. Storm was going to kill her.

She arrived at the room to catch her breath before going inside. Walking in the room, she found a class she didn't recognize staring back at her along with their trench coat wearing instructor.

Rogue swore she felt her stomach plummet to the depths of her toes in that instant.

"_Bon matin_, Rogue. Is dere somt'ing y' need?" His smirk was obvious enough to her; he always seemed to favor her with the same amused look. But he kept it well concealed otherwise.

Her mind went blank. What could she say? "Yes, Ororo said she wanted you to sign some things. Had to do with joining the team," it was complete bullshit, and worst thing was he could tell.

It was the way he offered her a raised brow and a lazy grin that told her he knew, and it made her want to throttle him. He motioned to her to walk over towards his desk, where he had been previously lounging. He looked up at his class. "Go over de worksheet from last night," then his gaze switched back to her.

She took out an official looking manila folder and opened it to a random piece of paper. "Sign here," she pointed to a spot that took her fancy.

His grin grew as he signed the 'document'. "If y' wanted an autograph, all y' had t' do was ask _chère_."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "As if. Ah just walked into the wrong class is all."

"An' de signin'…" Remy trailed off the sentence as he scrawled another name on the paper.

"Didn't want to look stupid."

Remy looked at her again. His damn sunglasses preventing her from seeing his eye color once again. "Didn't know y' were a fan of de bears."

Rogue was about to ask what he meant by that when she chanced a glance down at her shirt, which she'd thrown on at the last moment. It happened to be slate in color with a picture of a blue bear. Rain clouds adorned the area of his stomach. Across the fabric was scrawled, 'Don't rain on my parade'. It had been a gift from Jubilee. "That doesn't surprise meh; ya don't know meh very well. Sign here."

He dutifully inked the page before closing the folder and handing it to her. "Anytime y' want t' drop by _chère_ feel more den welcome t'. No _reasons_ needed."

She favored him with a glare before walking out of the classroom. After she'd reached her own classroom and set the students to reading she went to throw out the signature page. Instead of finding several repetitions of his name she found a message scrawled out.

_You know your hair looks good that way. You should let it curl more often. _

Rogue smiled softly before resuming her class, in which half of the students hadn't even read the chapter. She'd had to threaten Danger Room sessions to get a reaction towards that night's workload. She later found that the kitchen was devoid of food, and saw the absence of a grocery list, which meant it was shopping day. She slipped while going through the hallway on something that she wasn't sure she wanted to know the origin of. And then was stuck between what seemed to be a group of rabid children, all intent to play their game of tag, mutant style while inside the mansion. Finding no end to her woes, she decided to go to the garage and lie low for a bit.

She walked through the threshold, holding her breath only to release it breathily at the sight before her. Covering the expanse of the Xavier garage were men, lots and lots of men. And all of them were without a shirt. Of course she did not entirely neglect the notice that there were varied machines in different stages of assemblage around her. Not to mention the strong odor of oil. Her eyes raked over the likenesses of the bare torsos before her, and after living years without touch, she could certainly appreciate the sight before her. Suddenly Danger Room sessions were more of a blessing and her day didn't look so grim.

Sneaking her way through the door again she made her way to the kitchen. The guys had all looked rather dirty and she figured they could use some sort of refreshment, anything to give her an excuse to go in there, again. Rooting through the fridge her eyes lighted upon a pitcher of lemonade, it was cliché, but who cared. It would work perfectly. She gathered a stack of disposable cups before heading out of the kitchen. On her way she spied a digital camera lying on the counter. Something sparked inside her head and she placed the cups down to place the thin camera in her back pocket.

Her journey back to the garage was in record time. Boys were a great motivator. She walked back into the room and again was lost in the sight before her. Half-naked bodies. It must have been some manly initiation rule that to work on any sort of machine, a bare chest was required. Maybe it was to tell the boys from men by way of chest hair. Maybe it was just because they didn't want to get too warm and dirty in the shirt. Or maybe it was in case a woman, such as herself, walked through that very door.

Either way, she wasn't going to question her good fortune one bit.

She wrestled the cups into her elbow while reaching back for the camera. Her fingers worked to turn off the flash before she brought up the small device and started to snap pictures. Satisfied she closed the camera and deposited it back in her pocket. They were none the wiser. Now to make her visit seem innocent.

"Anyone interested in something to drink?" Rogue asked her voice sounding small and feminine among so much masculinity. The population of the garage shifted their eyes to her and her heart skipped a beat at the attention. "Ah brought lemonade," she added to break the sudden tension in the room.

Logan was the first to approach, probably because he was genuinely thirsty. He'd probably heard her camera, his smirk said something to the affect, but she honestly didn't care. "Darlin', that wasn't very subtle."

"Not everyone has heightened hearing, Logan," Rogue pointed out with a cheerful grin on her face.

His retort was to snort, and on a lesser man it would have seemed funny. But Logan made it seem almost feral and laughing at the same time. He could be confusing like that sometimes. Bobby came up next, and Rogue offered him a smile, but it held a little less warmth than the one she'd presented to Logan. In truth, she was still raw over what happened with him. She knew enough to not dwell, but wounds of the heart are not mended so easily.

"Ah didn't know you had an interest in fixin' stuff," She commented lightly as she poured the pale liquid into the small container.

Bobby shrugged. "It's more of a learning thing really," his hand ran through his spiked hair. At one point she had believed that he iced up his hair every few minutes instead of actually using gel. It had turned out she was wrong when she'd touched it one time. He walked back to his same project after a few more exchanged words. Rogue had to suppress the urge to let out a demanding, "Next!"

Instead she looked up to see Piotr and her smile returned in full. "Heya big guy. Ah didn't exactly expect ya to be down here," she poured him a glass regardless if that's what he really wanted or not.

"Da, well I vasn't given much choice. Zey," Piotr's giant hand waved around the room, "seem to think zat I make a good tool while completely metallic."

Rogue had always marveled at how after all his time in the States, Piotr still held his Russian accent among his speech. Really she shouldn't be surprised. It was the same way with Logan and her own lilt to the English language. "Make a good vise huh?"

"Something like zat, Da."

She only laughed. Warren came up afterwards and Rogue couldn't help but feel that Betsy would kill to trade places with her. Hell, Kitty would have killed to be here a minute ago. "Ah can see it now, you're making a jet pack."

Warren's laugh was as rich and warm as she'd thought it would be. Later she'd have to commend Betts on her choice. "You found me out," he confessed in a truly dramatic manner. "I just have a need for speed, that these old things," he flexed his wings causing some dust to fly up from the ground. "just don't possess," Out of most people in the room he seemed the most comfortable to have his shirt off. It was most likely due to the two appendages attached to his back.

"Well, then it's a good thing mah lemonade is known for its inspirational qualities. Ya may leave some of your vast earning from this invention at the address marked on the bottom of that cup," Rogue said while handing him the glass full of liquid.

Cautiously Warren looked at the bottom of the Styrofoam container. "Ah, recycling number 3. A devious plan indeed."

"It was brilliance on mah part, no that Ah boast or anything."

"No, oh course not," Warren left with a grin to go work on his proclaimed 'jet pack'.

Rogue looked into the empty space before her. She scowled at the other inhabitants of the garage. Gazing down at the rather full pitcher she decided to take action. She shook the pitcher, light enough to not spill a drop, but enough so that the ice chinked the sides annoyingly. "It's still full, Ah'm not walking back with this thing. Ya'll are drinkin' it all."

She was positive the laughing coming from the back was Logan. Jerk.

Gradually others came forward to claim a glass of lemonade, and when they did her glare would melt into a sickeningly sweet smile. It was in fact creepy at how rapid her face could contort with expressions. After the last glass she didn't bother with suppression and said, "Next!"

Her gaze was focused on the liquid she was currently pouring into the disposable cup to notice the person before her. Her eyes did trail slowly from jeans that were covered with oil stains that fit right in with the holes and faded patches. Slowly her eyes glimpsed upon the tanned skin that covered muscles that looked chiseled. Her eyes lifted until she saw the ever-tinted lenses of the resident Cajun.

"Y' seem t' be doin' well f' y'rself."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rogue blinked, confused by his meaning in the statement.

Remy pointed down towards the pitcher she held in her hand that was bordering on empty. He reached and took a cup that was grasped loosely in her hand, giving them each a brief moment of contact with one another, then he pro-offered the cup with his casual grin. "Care t' fill it up?"

Her body moved automatically before her brain and poured the last remains of the lemonade into his glass. She watched him take a casual taste. Her eyes avidly noting how his Adam's apple bobbed up and down with the motion and how he licked his lips to get the last remnants.

Briefly Rogue wondered if she _should_ have kissed him that morning so long ago in the kitchen. Ridding her head of those thoughts she looked back at the Cajun. He was smirking, damn him. "_Merci chére_," and he simply walked away, leaving her staring after him.

Now she wasn't so mindless that she didn't appreciate the afforded view of his backside, but she did look back down at her pitcher, which was now empty. "Well, Ah guess that concludes that," she mumbled to herself. Then with another smile, "Ah'll be seein' you boys around. Don't break anything."

Rogue walked out of the garage, the pitcher hanging loosely in her hand. The other went to her back pocket for the camera. Pulling it out, she couldn't help but let a grin surface on her features. Whoever owned this camera would be receiving a nice present from her one day. And no doubt several of the female members of the institute.

---

"I still don't find it fair," Jubilee muttered while she leaned back in her chair staring at her picture copies.

Betsy didn't seem to be paying attention, more caught up in looking at one shot that was particularly kind to Warren. In this light, it was no doubt that man could be an angel. "I think Rogue just has the luck of the draw."

"Karma. Complete, utter, Karma," Kitty had set aside all of her other photographs for the ones that had been afforded to her from Rogue, especially the ones that held a nice shot of one Russian mutant.

"Best part is now I have Birthday or Christmas presents for all of the girls," Rogue said with a satisfied smile on her face.

"I. Hate. You."

"Ditto."

Instead of a response from Jubilee, Rogue was met with a wad of paper aimed at her face. "So, in the line of these pictures, who wins?"

"Wins? Under what criteria?" Kitty asked. She knew it was better to know all the parameters before you started to judge something, especially something as difficult as this.

It took them awhile but they finally set upon a list of guidelines and then a top five contenders. Bobby was number five under the conditions that he was younger than anyone else and had time to still blossom. Logan had ranked fourth and would have made it higher if they all hadn't thought of his age. Piotr was third due to the fact that his muscles were easily unrivaled and that he was by far the sweetest of the bunch. And then it was a decision between Warren and Remy. Warren was on grounds of blond hair, blue eyes, muscles to die for and actual wings. Remy on the other hand had the shaggy auburn hair, tanned skin, muscles that appeared to be chiseled and an accent that made most of them swoon.

Rogue hadn't taken an active role in the decision making. She had returned to grading her schoolwork. She'd laugh at a comment the others would make or break indecision, but other than that she was focused on completing the work.

"Yeah, but look at that!" Jubilee was pointing squarely at the tanned abdomen of Remy LeBeau. "You can't say that that isn't perfection!"

"Angel," Betsy replied in a sing-song voice. "He's got wings for goodness sake! And we don't even know what color Remy's eyes are. It doesn't count. "

Kitty cleared her throat, drawing their attention to her. "The way I see it, it's the classic case of good boy verses bad boy."

There was a cough of "bad boy" from Jubilee while Betsy kicked her from underneath the table. "What! I happen to like the bad boys," Jubes informed the rest of them while nursing her now sore shin. "You know I already have Danger Room sessions to give me bruises, I don't need more."

"Don't give me a reason to cause more then," Betsy stated defiantly.

Jubilee made a face before finding something interesting at the library door. "Speaking of bad boys…"

"No one was Jubes," Rogue pointed out, knowing it would only serve to aggravate her friend further.

"Shut up. Anyway, guess who just walked in?"

"Who?" Kitty seemed as if she was playing a game with a toddler. In fact it could be viewed as such by other people. Jubilee had that effect sometimes, possessing too much energy for what could be considered healthy.

"One order of spicy goodness," Jubilee licked her lips.

Rogue rolled her eyes and chanced a glance at who had entered the room. It was in fact an order of spicy goodness in the form of Remy LeBeau. Looking back at the papers before her, she didn't even bother to cover her groan.

From behind her she heard a low chuckle. "Remy just got here and y' already groanin' _chére_," a voice said from no doubt near her chair.

"Groaning in irritation Swamp Rat," To be truthful Rogue couldn't help but snap at him. He just brought that quality out in her. Not to mention his insistence on calling her _chére_, all of the time like it was some special endearment meant only for her. In kind she would call him Swamp Rat as more of an insult that anything affectionate.

"M' sure y' are," Remy offered while he turned to supply the table's other occupants with a charming smile. But to Rogue it seemed to be more of a smirk. He had grabbed a chair and sat backwards in it, arms resting on the top. "So, how are y' _belle femmes_?"

The other girls giggled as Rogue rolled her eyes. "I'm doing quite well, thanks luv," Betsy replied with a seductive smile on her lips. Jubilee coughed something that sounded incredibly like 'Angel' before Betsy kicked her in the shin, again. Jubilee responded by throwing a piece of paper at the purple hair woman.

"Would you two cut it out, just cause Remy's here doesn't mean you have to fight for his attention," Kitty pointed out as a piece of paper flew her way.

"But _p'tit_, dere ain't no fun in dat? Especially not when de ladies as beautiful as de ones in dis room."

"Do ya breathe by flirtin'?" Rogue asked, not looking up at him but instead marking off another error on the essay before her.

"_Non chére_. Remy hardly ever breathes when he's around y'. Y' take his breathe away," He presented her with his award winning smirk, while the other girls giggled.

"That is such shit Cajun. But unlike the rest of ya, Ah have to get these papers done today," Rogue gathered up the papers and stood up. "Catch ya'll around later."

Remy watched her leave and then turned back to the others. "Was it somet'ing Remy said?" The girls just laughed with a respond of 'its just Rogue'.

- - - - -

_It was dark; all around her it was dark. She could feel the cold against her naked body. Her hands ached as she flexed them against a ground littered with small pine needles. Her legs were drawn upwards slowly, responding to her body's call by bringing her to a crouch. Sniffing, she smelt the thick scent of pine along with the sap that grows within their trunks. Cautiously she stood to her full height and could feel pain resonate throughout her body. It was uncomfortable but she had had worse, she was sure of it. _

_The problem was that she couldn't think of when she had. She couldn't remember anything for that matter. And that was enough to actually bring terror flooding into her veins. She heard a twig snap and immediately pushed herself to the other side of tree. Her heart rate was accelerated and she could hear the blood pulsing in her ears. _

_Her nose twitched and she smelt, hunger and excitement. Her eyes adjusted to see the outlines of the trees, enough so that she could make out the lines of leaves against the skyline. If her ears could wiggle, she was sure they would have as they picked up the subtle sounds of leaves crackling under something's weight. _

_Inside her, something reacted. A feral snarl was emitted from her throat as she leapt from her hiding spot. What she found facing her was a wolf. It was the strangest wolf she'd ever seen, larger in proportion than most of its brethren and its eyes were a solid red which accented its black coat. It snarled and drew back its mouth to reveal glistening white canines. _

_Something was wrong with that animal. She was sure of it, even more sure when it launched itself at her, an act that was uncommon for even the hungriest wolf. With deftness she didn't know she had she rolled out of the way and only earned a scratch on her arm for the troubles. It was more the twigs, branches and needles that covered the ground that hurt her than the actual animal. She'd thus far dodged all of its approaches. But her body was tired of playing cat and mouse. It wanted to attack._

_In that mindset she launched forwards, barely noticing the claws that protruded from her knuckles. That was until one of them sank within the wolf's midnight hide. In response it latched on to tight muscle at the top of her shoulder. It had been making an attempt to reach her neck and failed. She withdrew her hand and stared in wonder at the three blood covered prongs that came from her hand. What was she?_

_During her astonishment the wolf took no time in attacking her again, raking a paw over her face. Blood poured down and into her eyes and she was forced to shake it out while trying to push the wolf away from her in a vain chance of defense. It didn't work quite as well as she might have hoped. At last seeing no solution a feral part of her took to sinking the prongs up into the animal's skull. It howled and then went limp as she jerked the spikes out again. The eyes died out and she was allowed to push the animal off of her. _

_She scuttled away from it as far as she could until she hit something rough with her back. Presumably it was a tree, but she could never be sure. She stared down in horror at the two sets of claws, for that what they were, that protruded from her hands. She was an animal; the display back there had shown her that. Maybe that's why she was in the wilderness, naked and alone with no memory at all of her life. Maybe she had never had a life._

_Her hands instinctively wiped the blood from her eyes. Then she looked down at her shoulder, wiping blood away there to get a better look at the wound. But there was no wound. It was gone, vanished as if it had never appeared. What was she? First an animal and now some sort of freak. Someone who couldn't get hurt, who wouldn't be able to stay injured. _

_Slowly her heartbeat decreased from the adrenaline that had been pumped into it. Her thoughts slowed. And then she was screaming she heard her own anguished screaming. She let forth a desperate plea to any sort of deity that was out there to help her. To tell her who she was, what had happened to her and where she was. Her answer was silence. And as her stomach growled, she felt something slipping from her. Once again she felt feral as she stalked back over towards the wolf. _

Rogue sat up in her bed panting. Her covers had been kicked to the end of her mattress and her skin was covered in a small sheen of sweat. Her eyes were wide with apprehension as she felt each painful beat of her heart. Her lungs gasped for air irregularly.

She had been dreaming about Logan. No, she had been dreaming she _was_ Logan. She had felt such animalistic qualities rushing through her, manipulating her. Felt the way his claws emerged and how he healed himself. Also she'd felt the way that he'd felt when he could not remember a thing about himself. It was terrifying.

Even more so because she in all rights, shouldn't be having these nightmares again. She shouldn't be reoccurring these memories again. Her powers were gone, eradicated and the psyches with them. Maybe she'd have a random occurrence of someone's memory still inside her head, but not like this. Not like how they used to be once she'd freshly absorbed someone. This link to her powers, it frightened and horrified her.

Looking around her room she felt the walls closing in on her. She was trapped; it was like she was in a cage. She hated cages. Cautiously she slunk out of her bed and made her way to the door, opening it and starring into the hallway. Her eyes were wide and searching, her nose working overtime while it sniffed the air. Silently she crept down until she reached the elevator that would take her down to the lower regions. She waited inside, and once it hit the bottom floor she scampered out of it.

Her feet carried her through the deserted hallways and into the second, less commonly used hanger. It was one that had been built long ago, in which an extra plane stood to launch if ever a need arose. The plane exited through a tunnel at the end of the hanger, which opened out of the side of a cliff.

It probably was insane on some levels, but she found nothing more peaceful than opening up those hanger doors and sitting on the edge, just looking out at the expanse below. It was where she thought and where she could calm down. Once or twice when she'd had powers that enabled her flight or teleportation she had jumped from the opening. And she'd found she _loved_ the sensation of falling. The weightlessness, the wind rippling around her. It was addicting and she'd almost wanted to absorb someone else just to be able to fall safely again.

Usually at that point her guilt and self-loathing would kick in. Tearing her up inside over the pain she'd caused a friend. Over the fact that she wished to absorb someone else again, just to be able to use the wonderful talents that had been gifted to them. It was in those moments that she'd hate herself, but being in that place, it would make her come to reason again.

The buttons were sitting there, waiting for her, knowing she would press them. And she did, she inserted the sequence that would open the doors and then added in the access code to have them remain in that position. Moving of its own accord her body knew the motions to her arrival at this place. It positioned her near the edge and closed her eyes so that she could enjoy the wind that always formed from the cliff.

Auburn hair wisped around her face, an occasional silver strand tickling across her features. Through the rustling, a soft sigh was barely perceptible as it left her lips. Shivers ran down her spine as the minute breeze played across the goose pimples on her arms and it twirled through her splayed fingers. This was a place that she had always reveled above all else because it gave her such a sensation of touch. The wind would caress her in a way that no one was allowed to, due to her deadly skin. And although she now had the choice of another human's touch, old habits die hard.

For the time it was pleasant to simply stand, her emerald eyes hidden from the world, and let her worries flow away from her on the very same wind.

What did surprise her into reality again was the feeling of the sun on her face. It was enjoyable at first, the warming awareness of it against her skin. But then as she slipped back to herself, she realized that the sun's rays came to bare when it was much later in the day. She must have stayed there for far longer than she had believed at first.

Wearily she worked her muscles into movement again from their stationary position. Newly revived legs made their way to the lift that would take her back to the mansion's main floors. She wished she could stay all day by the doors, but knew that the others would not approve. A pale finger pressed the button and Rogue waited against the back for the doors to shut.

"Wait! Hold dat door!"

In normal circumstances, Rogue would have simply wished for the doors to close quicker and cut off the approaching person. But considering her relaxed state, she opted to press the button to keep the metallic doors open.

A leather jacketed figure burst into the elevator and slumped against the back wall, catching their breath from an impromptu run. Straightening, Rogue was suddenly regretful of her simple kind act as she looked at the face of Remy LeBeau. He in return smirked at her company.

"Why _chére_, Remy didn't t'ink y' cared dat much," he drawled lazily, his smirk had begun to annoy her the minute it crept upon his face.

She repressed a groan of irritation. "Ah don't. Ah thought it was someone else, anyone else."

He sobered slightly. "Y' really don't like m' much _non_?"

"In a particular sense, no Ah do not. But Ah thought that was obvious," Rogue was slightly confused. He had to know she disliked him, from her comments every chance they were near one another it was obvious to even the most oblivious person.

"_Oui_," his fingers ran through his auburn hair. "Didn't t'ink it was t' dis extent though," He pushed himself away from the wall and took the steps to the front of the elevator. There his hand closed around the red switch and flicked it downwards. It elevator stopped with a start and Remy turned around to survey her. "Why is it y' dislike m'?"

Rogue blinked a couple of times, to ensure that she was not in fact dreaming. Not that she would admit to having a dream about Remy. "Are ya serious Swamp Rat?" He showed no signs of moving. "It would take too long to list," she replied and moved around him to start the elevator again.

In response Remy switched it back downwards. "Y' lyin' Roguey."

"Don't call meh Roguey," she flipped the switch so that it was in the on position and the elevator started topside again. He moved to flip it down again when the lift stopped of its own accord. Rogue turned to glare at him. "Cajun!"

"I didn't touch it!"

"Like hell, ya di—" she swallowed her words as the lights flickered, drawing her gaze towards the bulbs in the ceiling. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated on the problem. Suddenly the lift started to rise again and then stopped abruptly, the movement causing Rogue to topple over and fall into something. And then to make matters worse, the lights flickered again and died. This just wasn't her day. She groaned.

Beneath her, something shook and a low chuckle reached her ears. "_Chére_, y' always makin' dat sound around Remy."

"You know, Ah think Ah liked it better when ya talked in the first person," Rogue retorted while she tried to figure out her hands location amid the darkness.

"Dat so?"

"_Oui_," she mocked his accent horribly. But her hands had found something flat and solid underneath them. She pushed down to lever herself up. "Ya flirted less."

Remy let out a breath and she could feel it on her neck. "Y' don't have to press down so hard. I'll help y' up if y' need it."

"As if Ah want yah're help," Rogue huffed as she dragged herself into a sitting position, finding that she was close to the wall. "Cajun, where's yah're head?"

"Here," he caught her hand and brought it within inches of his face. Enough so that she could feel his breath upon it. "And why you ask _chére_?"

"Ah have to know where to punch," she replied while she stared at him. How is it that he knew exactly where her hand was while she was left grasping in the darkness? She had fairly good night vision, but it was pitch black inside the metal car. "How did you know where mah hand was?"

"Got good eyes," his reply was gruff, in contrast to his usual light and flirtatious tone.

Rogue tilted her head to the side to assess what this change in his manner meant. Of course it was hard to tell anything when she was sitting across from his, in the total darkness without a way to see him. Carefully she made her way over the other side of the elevator where she sat next to him. She observed him silently until her curiosity got the better of her. "Why do you always where sunglasses?"

"Because Remy doesn't like his eyes," once again it was addressed in a curt manner. It was a sore subject for him.

Not to mention the use of the third person again. In a way she really hated herself for trying to understand Gambit, but he hadn't talked any of his past in the month he'd been there and Ororo would say nothing on the subject. "What's wrong with them that ya don't like 'em?" she asked softly.

His manner changed entirely. He was suddenly edgy and quivered in repressed anger. "W'at is dis? Share time?" He had crossed his arms angrily over his chest at some point. In light he might have looked like a sulking teenager or a young child with a tantrum. But it was dark and so it was left to the imagination.

"Why won't you just tell meh!"

"Because. S' not like Remy's asking why y' took de cure, _non_" his words were harsh and they stung as they were expected to do, except he hadn't really wanted to hurt her. "Just leave it be Rogue."

For her part Rogue was seething. He had no right to say that! Where did he come off thinking a simple question about his eyes was the same as her taking the cure? Gawd, she wished she could just punch him, kick him, anything to inflict pain. "No," she ground out through her clenched teeth. Then she made a grab for his sunglasses.

Remy caught her arms a few inches from his face, but Rogue persisted to struggle for the lenses. She tried using her advantage of being on top, but once Remy flipped them over she lost even that. Both of their breathings were ragged from the effort of fighting the other, especially in so small a place.

"Would y' just stop!" he asked it as a question but it was really more of a statement.

Her eyes had been closed, but she opened them again at his breech of the silence. She looked up and instead of his face she saw two glowing red orbs. They were just hovering. Fear wrapped its icy fingers around her heart and choked her throat. "Remy."

"W'at?"

"Do…Do you see that?" Rogue's voice wavered as she struggled to form words with her mouth. It was proving more difficult than she would have thought.

"See w'at Rogue. Dere isn't much to see in here," his tone was still slightly agitated but it had lost most of its anger. Exhaustion had seeped into his speech at some point.

Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips. "There are two red circles. They're glowing."

Almost immediately he scrambled off of her and searched the darkness. With his movements, the orbs followed. It left Rogue lying stunned on the ground. They weren't orbs; they were eyes, Remy's eyes. That's why he wore the sunglasses all the time. He knew people would react badly too them and so he saved them the trouble. Getting to her feet she looked for his eyes and went over to his crouched form. Her hand closed over his just as he had found his sunglasses again.

"Don't," she instructed him. His eyes rose up to meet her and then he looked away quickly. "Don't put them back on."

"And why not _chére_? Dey already unsettle y', no one wants to see demon _yeux_," there was so much self-loathing and hurt behind his voice. This obviously had happened to him before.

Rogue sat back against the wall with a sigh, her hand still around his own. "Because Ah like them," Remy gave a snort in disbelief. "No, really. Ah reacted badly at first because well it's dark and it was surprising. But now that Ah know they aren't just some floating circles Ah'm fine. Ah wonder what they look like normally though."

Silence filled the elevator until a laugh came from beside her. Remy's body shook with his rich laughter. It sounded nice to her ears. "Y' are definitely different Rogue," his hand twisted to capture hers in his larger hand. His hand was warm and it made her tingle from the contact. Silence enveloped them again. "How 'bout we be friends?"

Her head turned to look into his eyes. He offered a small smile, and with her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness she could just make it out. "Ah'd like that."

"Y' know dis means y' are going to have to stop hating me."

"Ah know, it'll be hard at first, but Ah think Ah can get through it," Rogue smiled as she teased her new friend. It was weird to think of him as such. But maybe it would be for the better. "Especially now that Ah've heard ya not talk in the third person."

"Only f' y' _chére_," Remy grinned as he squeezed her hand lightly. Neither had let go of the others hand yet. He felt Rogue shiver next to him and he untangled his hand from hers and ran it up her arm to ward off the goose bumps that were appearing. He reached to do the same with the other arm, but his hand ran into something sticky on the way. He drew his hand near his face and sniffed. Blood, it smelled like blood. "W'at did y' get caught on?"

"Hmm?" she looked down at her arm, where his hand had been moments before. She had been a little preoccupied enjoying the feel of his hands on her bare arms to really pay much attention.

"Y're bleeding," he brought her arm up towards his face to get a better look at the cut. Then he released it back into her care, while he shrugged his coat from his shoulders. Then he grasped the hem of his shirt and brought it over his head.

Rogue's face held a confused expression. "Ah'm bleeding and so ya take off you're shirt? Cajun, you sure ya didn't hit you're head?"

He rolled his eyes, which appeared quite comical in the darkness. "_Non _genius, I am going to put m' shirt on y're arm t' stop de bleeding," and he did just that, ripping it and then tying it to stay securely on her flesh. Then he draped his coat around her shoulders. She protested to this of course.

"Gambit! You can not give meh your shirt, an' your coat!"

"_Oui_, I can. Besides I t'ink it looks good on y'," Remy smirked down at her as she huffed inside his coat.

Not that she _really_ minded the coat. It was warm from his heat, and held the distinctive smell that always surrounded him. Personally she thought it would make a great cologne if someone bottled it, especially since she believe him to not be wearing _any_ cologne. "Ya can't even see meh!"

Remy laughed. "Y' forgettin' already _chére_," he pointed to his eyes while his voice still held his laughter.

"Stupid night vision," Rogue mumbled causing Remy to laugh again and a small smile to cross her features.

- - - - -

"Has anyone seen Rogue?" Kitty walked into what had been the Professor's office. Several monitors were displaying various portions of the mansion. Her eyes gazed over them, watching the actions of the students.

Ororo turned her head to regard the brunette. "I have not seen her since the night before. Perhaps she is on the grounds somewhere?"

"I don't think so; I already tried, like, all the security cameras and she isn't near any. And we have those everywhere," Kitty wasn't particularly worried about Rogue but she didn't want something bad to happen to her either because no one had noticed she was missing.

"She might be somewhere downstairs. I'm not quite sure how things react down there due to the lockdown procedures," Ororo began to type something on a nearby keyboard and the monitor pictures changed to view the metallic hallways of the lower mansion.

"Lockdown? So that's what all the glare and blare was about earlier."

"Yes, after the events of Stryker's attack the Professor thought it wise to implement such a precaution. He…left before we had a chance to test it out. So I decided today would be as good as any to give it a test run. How would you say it went?" the white-haired woman kept scanning the monitors but could find nothing.

Kitty looked over her shoulder, having walked closer to the desk. "It went well, the automated instructions sure helped. Can I try something?"

"As long as it is nothing illegal," the weather goddesses voice was teasing despite the words she used.

"Ugh, that was once okay? I swear do something once, and you'll never live it down!" Kitty had moved towards the keyboard and was typing furiously while her eyes were trained on the monitors.

Ororo chuckled lightly. "Yes but I am not sure the government appreciated your browsing their files."

"I, like, was trying to write a paper for history. I wanted it to be original," the younger girl replied sheepishly although she had learned certain things from that adventure. Firstly, their firewalls had sucked; secondly the president liked Orange Marmalade. "Here we go."

A schematic of the lower regions of the mansion was displayed on one of the monitors directly above the keyboard. A few more keystrokes and four warm colored dots littered the screen. Switching to another monitor, Kitty located one of the dots, via security camera. It was Jubilee walking around, with her music on. Smiling she went to find the next dot's identity. It turned out to be Hank headed in the direction of the Med Bay. One of the other dots was Logan who didn't seem to know where he was going. She went to the next dot and it was in the elevator, which held no cameras.

"Well that didn't solve anything," Kitty scowled as she leaned back in the chair.

"Come to think of it, I have not seen Gambit since earlier this morning. Did you see him at all?"

Kitty looked back at the computer. "No, but I can check the camera's again."

They had just finished checking again when Logan walked into the room. He seemed to be irritated. "Have either of you seen Rogue?"

"No, why do you ask?" Ororo had turned to look at their visitor while Kitty focused on the monitors, the light sound of keys clacking from her fingers motions.

"I was looking for her, even followed her scent downstairs until it ended near the elevator. But it was in use so I couldn't continue that way, not that it would have helped much," he looked around the room, eyes straying to the monitors and then back to Ororo.

The chair creaked as Kitty leaned closer to the monitor. The two adults looked back at her actions, watching as she leaned back again and started typing furiously. The schematic was pulled up again and a box appeared around one of the dots. It grew larger to fill the screen, where they could make out not one but two dots. "It wasn't one person, its two!" Kitty cried and set to typing again. Various windows popped up and were closed at the same speed until Kitty let out a triumphant sound. "Elevator, the elevator isn't working. And two people are inside of it!"

"Kitty?"

"Both Rogue and Remy are unaccountable. There are two people in the elevator and it isn't working. Which means it was probably running when the lockdown occurred and this is part of the procedure," Kitty beamed happily that she had solved that mystery and then her face fell.

"What's wrong child?" Ororo had noticed her smile falter and turn to a frown.

"Well I just realized it was, like, Rogue and Remy in there elevator. They'll have killed one another by now."

"Best go get the Cajun's carcass then," Logan said, not sounding especially morose at the possibility of Gambit being no longer an annoyance, as he walked from the room.

"Logan!"

- - - - -

"Alright, what's your favorite color?"

"Green."

"Liar! Ya just sayin' that because it's the same as mine!" Rogue shoved him lightly as he laughed at her. She was beginning to like his laughter, and his friendship.

"_Non_, I happen to like de color green," Remy looked down to see her raised eyebrow and crossed arms. "Fine, fine. Black."

She rolled her eyes. "That is not a color Swamp Rat. It is the _absence_ of a color."

"_Merde_, y' are picky. How does _rouge_ fair wit' y'r majesty?" Remy attempted to make a bow, but in a seated position it was rather difficult and looked far less graceful.

Rogue made an approving sound. "That will do. You may keep you're head peasant," she replied loftily, her voice holding a trace of laughter.

"M' not de peasantry type _chére_, sorry t' say," he was grinning. Once they had made an attempt at friendship their arguments turned into just banter and it was pleasant.

"No, Ah suppose yah're not. Well, then perhaps y—" Rogue stopped halfway through her words as something screeched above them. Remy stood up silently and held his hand out for Rogue to grasp. She did, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. They both stared at the ceiling as Remy reached into the pocket on Rogue's other side and withdrew a deck of cards.

He drew one card out while a thud reverberated off the top of the lift. Then there was more creaking as light flooded into the elevator. The light came from two sources, one from the flashlight held above and the other from the card held in Remy's hand.

"You alright down there darlin'?" Logan called down.

Remy retracted the charge from the card as Rogue moved closer to the hatch opening. "Besides being trapped in an elevator, Ah'm just fine."

"Gumbo down there with you?"

"_Oui_, Remy's still alive," he answered for himself to confirm his place in the elevator.

"We'll have you two out of there in a minute," Logan said before his flashlight disappeared leaving them in darkness again. Then a larger, brighter light came on and Logan's arm came through the opening.

"Ladies first," Remy said with a proper bow this time. It looked more graceful than the one he had tried while seated.

Rogue made a face but went towards Logan's hand anyway. She stretched her arm and found that it fell short of reaching Logan's hand. "Damnit," she cursed. And then she felt hands around her waist and she was lifted towards the outstretched hand. She grasped his hand and was slowly pulled up amid the sounds of Logan's grunting.

Logan set Rogue down on the other side of the hatch and reached his hand down again.

"Just a minute, _mon ami_," Remy called from below. He took out his bo, which he had taken from his coat at the same time he'd withdrawn the deck of cards. He extended it with the push of a button and it was wedged between the two walls. Gripping the slick metal he swung up and balanced upon the length, while his hand clung to the side of the opening. A deft flick of his foot and the staff retracted, at which point he kicked it up and into his awaiting hand.

Logan snorted before helping in hauling the Cajun the rest of the way out of the elevator. Then he instructed them to climb the ladder up to the open doors above them. Rogue climbed first, followed by Remy with Logan acting as caboose. When they reached the top they were again helped up, this time by Ororo. Kitty was standing back a ways too.

"Well, I see you two weren't bored," Kitty kept her face calm as she looked at the two southerners before her. "And I didn't think you were that good at poker, Rogue."

Four sets of eyes looked at her curiously, clearly believing that she had at last gone insane amid the mansion's general chaos.

"They were obviously playing strip poker and Rogue is adorned with her spoils."

Remy laughed, while Rogue punched him in the shoulder but held a smile herself. Ororo just smiled and shook her head. While Logan, who was leaning against the wall a little winded from the excursion of lifting two people, stared at the two young people. "Why are you wearing his coat Stripes? And Gumbo is without a shirt."

"Stop dat Wolvie, y' make Remy blush," Remy stated in an extremely girlish voice while his hand covered his mouth. He even managed a high pitched giggle.

It sent Rogue to find support for her body as she laughed. Ororo's smile grew and Kitty laughed along with her friend.

"Can it Cajun."

"Remy, was being considerate since Ah was cold," Rogue managed to get the sentence between breaths. She slid the leather from around her shoulder, missing the smell and the warmth as she handed it over to him. She looked down at her arm. "Ah'll return the shirt, later, after Ah wash it."

"What happened?" Ororo asked curious as to why her younger friend would have Remy's shirt in the first place, especially due to the fact that it was wrapped around her arm.

"It's nothing 'Ro. Just a scratch that's all. But we didn't want to chance it in the dark. Anyway, Ah think Ah'm going to hit the showers, Ah feel like crap," she drew a strand of auburn hair away from her face while she gave a smile before turning towards the stairs.

Remy was the one to break the silence around them all. "Guess dat Remy should go put some clothes on. He don't want to get mobbed or somet'ing."

"Watch out for Tabitha, she'll pounce on you. Same with Jubilee. And…well I think most of them will," Kitty smiled as she watched the Cajun man shudder.

"Let's hope Remy survives, _hein p'tit?"_

- - - - -

Rogue headed towards her room first. She flicked on the light and went over towards her closet to select a pair of clothes for after her shower. Dully she noticed she was still in her pajamas, which consisted of a shirt and shorts. Gawd, how well could Remy see in the dark? She hoped it wasn't that well, as a blush crept over her features.

She chose to ignore the heat on her cheeks as she took out her clothes and then gathered a towel and the rest of her things. Before she left, she decided to remove the shirt from her arm and access the damage. Removing it, she remembered him tearing it and now realized that returning it would be quite foolish. So instead she put the bloody strips in her trash. It plopped each time it hit the bottom, until her arm was finally free of the material.

Then she gazed down upon her arm and sucked in a breath.

It was blood stained but underneath she couldn't see a wound. Not even a cut or a scratch to show where the blood could have appeared from. Her heart rate increased as she checked the shirt again to make sure it really was crusty with dried blood. Her feet backed her up until she met the wall, the light switch digging into her painfully. She slid down the surface, turning the lights off in her descent, as her legs gave way.

What the hell had happened to her?

Truthfully Rogue didn't have the slightest clue. She could think of only a few things. One, she had never really been hurt and she and Remy had just gone stir crazy inside the elevator. Two, Remy had a blood capsule in his hand and used it on her arm as an excuse to get shirtless around her again. She wouldn't put that past him, but it seemed unlikely that he knew they would be stuck in an elevator together. Three, she suddenly turned into Logan and healed herself. Or four, which ran along the lines of three, she absorbed part of Logan. Four she refused to believe due to the fact that she had received the cure.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there thinking but it was dark outside her window. She had decided to go along the options of one or two and punch Remy for it either way later. Gathering up her things she headed to her original destination of the shower. The bathroom was empty and she planned to take advantage of that fact. Walking inside she locked the door and stripped herself of her clothes before turning the water on and stepping inside. Her brain despite her body's actions was not functioning normally.

Water. It has a cleansing attribute about it. Something that makes a person feel completely clean inside and out. It's liberating, to say the least. Perhaps that was the reason it was used for baptisms. Either way it was freedom through water. It's a place to think where nobody's watching, a place to sing where nobody's listening. The ultimate escape, it's always there and always waiting.

Rogue too found it therapeutic. To stand under the stream of water and let it slide down her skin. It was nice. Today, or rather tonight, it was more about the pain. She had the dial turned all the way to the left. It was one of those scalding showers, where a person can only stand under the stream for a few moments before it feels like their flesh will slip off entirely.

A shower that burns on impact while it sends cold chills through the body because of its sheer intense warmth. But it feels so incredible against your skin because you can focus on the pain and nothing else. Just the pain, only the pain. Except eventually the pain will not be enough, and that's when reality will come crashing down again.

She was positive that the steam rolled right out from under the wooden door. It made her smile to think that if Bobby walked in at that moment he'd melt into a puddle from the temperature. A small blond, blue eyed puddle. A cold puddle though compared to the water she had now.

What she had now…What did she have? No powers, no boyfriend, no life.

Granted she had her English classes, her students, her friends, which now included the Swamp Rat. Name, he's got a name—Remy. That's the ticket. Remy, he could have been hers. No doubt he'd given her ample opportunity before that afternoon. Maybe it would only be for an hour, a week. It wouldn't matter; he'd be hers for that time. And just how would the puddle seem if she had water like that?

But she didn't. She didn't even _want_ that water. She didn't want a puddle, river, stream or pond. She wanted the whole damned ocean. And that was something Rogue could not have, would not have.

Lordy, why did she make things so complicated? Why couldn't it just be simple? Me Tarzan, you Jane. Simple, nice and easy to the point of making her teeth hurt.

Except that simple and nice had never worked for her, for Rogue. Hell, they never worked for Marie! And she was a damn shrew, having the ability to touch and not dong a thing. Somewhere she was sure, someone hated her. With a deep fire and brimstone passion. And they would cackle with glee every time something went wrong in her life. Their sides probably hurt from all the laughter they earned due to her misfortunes.

Fire. Brimstone. Scalding. Burning. Pain. Water. How long had she been under that water? No wonder her body was hurting, she had been under the water far too long. Her fingers flicked the water off and she reached for a towel. Her flesh was wrinkly and in a way it served her right.

Even now, she had the cure, she could touch and she wasn't doing a damn thing about it. Sure, she went clubbing with the girls every once in awhile. But that never really accomplished much. Maybe she wasn't just meant to be in relationships. Maybe she was just an eternal flirt, made to live her life out as a spinster. That was a depressing thought.

She dried herself off. And her hand went slower as it reached her arm. The blood was gone now, and she'd no idea where it came from. Without it there, it was easier to believe it had _never_ been there. She pulled her clothes on dully as her hair rested atop her head. She toweled her hair, and looked into the mirror. It was steamed up.

Her finger dragged across the surface. Rogue's eyes bore into her fingers handy work.

_Marie? Rogue? Who?_

She honestly didn't know any more. Things were so messed up that she had not quite figured out whom she _really_ was. She figured she'd just continue on as Rogue. It was easy enough to do; she'd been doing that very thing for years now. Her hand wiped across the mirror, smearing the words and revealing her face.

Avoiding her own steely gaze she gathered her things and fled from the room. She didn't want to think anymore, she just wanted to act. It would be simpler that way. Her heart rate had sped up during the time she stared in the mirror. And all of a sudden she was feeling slightly warmer. But she waved it off and kept her course.

"Y're up a little late."

Rogue spun and nearly lost her balance. She looked up into the eyes of the mansion's resident Cajun. "Ah lost track of time in mah room. And Ah still had to shower."

"Y' alright _chére_? Y' lookin' a little pale," Remy had walked closer to her and peered down worriedly. The small light in the hallways illuminated the two of them.

She looked up and saw that he was without his sunglasses. And his eyes were not just red, they were red on black. Perfect, they were absolutely perfect for his face, his body, for him. And they were beautiful. How could someone not appreciate those eyes?

"Rogue? Seriously, are y' okay?"

Her eyes blinked several times to bring her out of her thoughts. She managed a weak smile. "Ah'm fine Remy, just a little spacey, that's all."

He didn't seem convinced. "Maybe dat scratch was more den we thought, _hein_?" He looked down at her and his red eyes were glowing. It was soothing.

"Really, it was nothing. Although Ah don't think Ah can return the shirt. Seeing as its in pieces and all…" Rogue trailed off. She realized she shouldn't be apologizing, it was his shirt and he'd ripped it after all, though it had been to stop _her_ from bleeding.

Remy laughed softly, so as not to wake anyone. "S' alright. I'll manage to find somet'ing to wear."

Rogue made a face before she smiled again. And then a yawn completely took over her features. "'Scuse meh, but Ah think Ah will hit the sack. Ah'm beat," she felt warmer around the edges.

"_Bonne nuit_ _chére_," he whispered as she started to walk away.

She was feeling warmer by the second, and each step took more effort on her legs. Her arms felt weighted with the few items that they held. And her head, lord, her head felt like it was splitting in two. What was going on with her? Her legs suddenly felt like jelly and then buckled underneath her. The contents of her arms went flying as she approached the ground. She hit it with a heavy thud as things fluttered down around her.

Remy was by her side a moment too late to catch her. "_Chére_? What's wrong? Rogue!" He tried his best to get her to respond to him, but it wasn't working. Quickly he scooped her into his arms and set out at a run for the Med Bay.

Rogue barely registered being picked up. And his voice had turned computerized and fuzzy to her ears to the point where she saw no sense in responding. Not that her tries would have done much but made her irritated. Instead she was hard pressed to notice the black spots in her vision in the darkness of the scenery around her.

It was right before she reached the infirmary that Rogue's eyes finally closed and she let the darkness envelope her consciousness.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Well, I think I'm just going to forego apologizing for the general lateness of this update. But I did make it longer for appropriation of the waiting period. And isn't it just action packed! Oh, cliffhanger! The dream/memory was Logan's in case you didn't catch the claw-ness. So how did Rogue suddenly lose her cut? How will her and Remy's friendship turn out with feelings on both sides? Why did Rogue suddenly pass out? 

_Reviews_ – _Anon, _Yup, the gloves come from Irene. Good catch. And Mystique'll be coming in sooner or later. _Nics,_ Dear Roguey is going to have some trouble with her powers before she gets control I'm afraid. And yes, Mystique will be visiting. Cannot go on without her lovely blue self. _Lee_, Movieverse makes Rogue out to be such a wimp. I had to make her better. _xLiLix_, Heh…yeah so update fast, not so much. I love falling asleep on my couch, there is something comfy about it. _Hawaiichick,_ I'm happy that you like the Danger Room. I'll have some Romy headed your way soon enough. _Lovestoread, _I'm pretty sure a Danger Room session with Rogue and Logan would be hilarious and hard. So for the two of them it would be fun. The students…well they have to concentrate on breathing before they can laugh.

Coming Up: Med Bay fun and a little more denial in the form of dancing.

Translations:

_Bon matin – _Good Morning

_Chère –_ Dear (a term of endearment)

_Merci _– Thanks

_Belle femmes _– Beautiful women/ladies

_P'tit _– (Petite) Little one

_Yeux _– Eyes

_Rouge _– Red (I could have put this in English…but I liked it cause its almost spelled like Rogue.)

_Mon Ami _– My Friend

_Non_ – No

_Oui_ – Yes


	9. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER VIII**

_And he always will, get his thrills, the only way he knows how  
Well it might make you frown  
But he loves, being that dove, roaming where he cares to go  
To a state of mind that no-one knows_

_Over there stands my angry angel_

- _Angry Angel _by Imogen Heap

- - - - -

Denial, it's a six-letter word that's easily done. Everybody has done it once or twice in their life, yet it's hard to admit and easy to do. To believe your significant other isn't cheating, or perhaps that Grandma really didn't die. To believe you're just dreaming and this is not _really _happening. It's a simple facet of life. Things would be simpler if this never existed.

But people were rarely that lucky.

Remy could not recall any single time in his life when he had achieved a speed close to the one he moved at now. Neither could that feeling in his gut be identified, it felt like terror but with an addiction of jumbled emotions to it. One would think someone with empathy to be better in discerning his emotions, but presently with Rogue motionless in his arms he spent more energy on running than thinking.

"Come on _chére_. I know y' stronger den dis. W'atever dis is."

His feet skidded to a stop before the pristine doors of the Med Bay. He was forced to shirt her body in his arms to enable a fist to knock against the door. "Henri!"

As a rule the Med Lab was locked up at nights, to discourage against unruly children from their explorations. Especially due to the fact that Hank choose a room upstairs for the night time and did not like the prospect of coming to clean up a ransacked infirmary. It was the statement to Remy's mindless state of terror that he was banging on the locked door in the first place.

"_Merde_," he mumbled, finally processing the time of night. He was beginning to move away when a light flicked on and the doors opened to a bleary, yet irritated face.

"Remy, what is it? Do you know what time it is? I myself lost track of time and was studying a rather fascinating variation of traits in hares. Did you know tha—"

Politely Remy cleared his throat and motioned down towards his arms with his eyes. Hank followed the movement, and when he saw Rogue he let out a surprised gasp. "My stars and garters! What happened to her?" Hank had immediately moved aside.

With access to the room, Remy carefully placed Rogue on the stiff bed that lay not far off. "Found her in the hallway. She was walkin' and talkin' and den she just collapsed. She passed all de way out just a few moments ago."

The big furry man made a sympathetic noise. "My, my Miss Rogue what did you do?" He set out to fluttering around the room, gathering charts and wheeling over different machines. "  
Remy, would you mind staying to help? Since I gather no one else is up at this hour, well perhaps Jones, but…Remy?"

Remy never heard anything of what the good doctor said. Well some part of him registered it, he was a trained thief after all, but he didn't process it at all. His gaze was fixed on Rogue. She looked so small and frail lying on the bed with various machines being hooked up to her, nothing like the fierce woman he knew her to be. He felt responsible for this somehow, even though he couldn't have possibly caused it. What was it about her that affected his like this?

There had to be some reason that he suddenly felt obligated to look after her, regardless of the fact that she had a capable doctor in the room for her. What was it though? Was it the fact that she was one of the only people to actually _enjoy_ the sight of his eyes?

"Remy?"

A large blue hand invaded his vision of Rogue. He blinked before turning to Hank. "_Oui _Henri?"

"I called you several times. I wondered if you might stay to help," Hank's brow was still raised slightly while he appraised the younger man, trying to find anything wrong with her. Perhaps Remy had been injured by whatever happened to Rogue. One could never be too careful.

"'Course Doc. Anyt'ing t' help an injured _femme_," black and red eyes gazed down at the motionless body again before looking back at the doctor. Yet a single thought traced the contours of his mind. _Why did he suddenly care so much for Rogue?_

- - - - -

_He was running, running down a path, the soles of his feet smacking regularly against metallic flooring. Wait, when did he start moving? And it wasn't just him running, there were others and they were getting closer, and closer. He could hear their labored breaths and their feet's steady rhythm, closer. They were here. _

Remy's eyes snapped open and his head lifted as the Med Lab's doors swished open. He regarded the assembled group with mixed feelings. First off, they had woken him up, yet they were all friends—or close to it. And then, he simply did not want to share Rogue's care with anyone, bar Henri.

Merde_, y' a fool LeBeau. __Not to mention _fou_ f' talkin' to y'self._

Currently lining the door to Rogue's room were Kitty, Jubilee and Betsy. In the background he could just make out Piotr, Bobby and Warren. Internally, Remy sighed. He had no doubt that Ororo would be down soon and Logan would storm through as soon as he found out.

"What happened?" Kitty's voice was a little shaky as she looked at the form of her friend.

In truth, Rogue had seen better days. Her whole form was pale, at least paler than her normal milky complexion. Her hair was mussed from drying on a pillow, yet it lacked the cleanliness from her shower. It had become matted with perspiration throughout the night as Hank and Remy fought to keep her fever down. It was a hard won victory, and they finally got her down to a semblance of normality. Tubes were hooked up to any place imaginable on her body, as the IV dripped slowly into her veins to the rhythm of the machines monitoring her. She looked little.

He ran his hand through his chin length hair, while releasing the tension in his neck. "She collapsed in de hallway last night. She lost consciousness before I got her here, and den her fever started up. Henri finally managed to get dat down, but she hasn't woken up yet," his eyes drifted back to the girl lying near him. "She hasn't even moved."

No one seemed to notice that the Cajun had slipped from third person to speak in first person the entire time.

"Oh god," Kitty moved closer to Rogue's bedside and went to hold the other girls hands.

Jubilee walked along with Kitty, and was eerily silent. She looked down at Rogue and bit her lip, while twisted her hands. Her face showed her concern, through her expression and her eyes. Slowly Piotr moved the place a hand on Kitty's shoulder, which she leaned back into. Betsy was holding on to Warren's hand. The two might have bonded over their new friend's situation. Bobby hung back, he wasn't quite sure if Rogue would have wanted him there. But he still cared for her as a friend. They all stood there in silence, looking down upon Rogue, trying to figure out what was wrong with her.

Hank broke the silence when he walked into the room. "Remy, I assume there ha—Oh!" he had been looking down at Rogue's medical history when he walked into the room and had just noticed the extra visitors. He turned to Remy. "Has there been any change?"

"_Non_, unfortunately," Remy's voice was somber as he ran his hands over his eyes again, trying to fill them with awareness. The fact that he had spent a restless night in the very chair he sat in now didn't help any.

He checked a few machines before looking at Rogue's chart. "Well, her temperature is down. Although, I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing…" Hank announced the occupants of the room.

"What do you mean?" Jubilee looked at Hank quite confused. Wasn't the end of a fever a good thing? She voiced her query.

"In most cases Jubilee, yes it is. A fever is most commonly used to fight off some sort of infection or virus within the body. It in effect burns out the dangerous cells and tissue. But, some infections are accelerated by a fever and so its termination can mean that the infection is stronger. It doesn't help any that I do not know what Miss Rogue collapsed from. It could be anything from influenza to a reaction from a drug," He wrote down the current vitals of his patient.

"Drugs? Rogue doesn't take drugs!" Jubilee exclaimed.

Hank ran a hand over his face. "I was not trying to imply that she does. I was simply giving an instance to the times a fever can be present."

"What if we asked Rogue herself?" Everyone's head turned to stare at the violet headed woman in the room. She squirmed slightly under the pressure and then tried again. "What I mean is, maybe Rogue is just somewhere in her subconscious. I could contact her and see if she knows what's wrong."

"It is a possible that she might be more helpful with the situation. If you wouldn't mind, I would greatly appreciate any help treating Rogue," Hank looked haggard, and worried; never a good sign in a doctor. But what can one do when they don't know the condition a patient has?

Slowly, Betsy unraveled her hand from Warren's with an apologetic smile. She received a nod in return. She walked forward until she was beside Rogue's bed, from which Kitty and Jubilee had moved from. Tentatively she placed her hands on either side of the auburn haired girls head. This action wasn't necessary for telepaths, but it helped with concentration and tended to lead others to believe it was a needed action. Telepaths were sneaky by nature.

A lavender hue emitted from around the British woman's form. It spread to lie around Rogue as well. The whole infirmary was silent, expect for the baited breathes they all held and the low beeping of various machines. It seemed like an eternity but was only a few minutes later that Betsy reeled back from Rogue's form. Warren braced her from behind.

"What happened?" Bobby voiced the same question Kitty had asked when they had first come into the room. His blue eyes were distraught and searching.

"Her mind," Betsy said slowly, her breath coming in shallow. "It has some of the most advanced mental barriers I have ever seen on someone who is not a telepath."

Jubilee scoffed and rolled her eyes. "She did live with two telepaths for over four years."

Betsy gave her a look. "It's not that. Usually a person's block is like a wall, it usually resembles something like a steel dome, hard and impenetrable. Except that telepaths know to look underneath the dome as a way to enter the mind, as most people don't think to shield it that way. Rogue…her mind it in a complete sphere. And it's not steel its like adamantium. I couldn't even _scratch_ it."

"So, you're saying that you couldn't see anything in her mind?"

"Well, not quite. It's like adamantium in the fact that it's impenetrable, but it's also transparent," she flicked a piece of purple hair from her face as she observed bewildered faces. "The thing is, what I see, its just chaos, complete and utter chaos. Something will appear and then disappear to swirl among several other things. For having a very advanced mental shield, her mind is extremely unorganized."

"Dat's to be expected."

Betsy turned to look at the Cajun. "What do you mean by that?"

"De way I figure, s' because of Rogue's mutation. Y' said dat when she absorbs someone; she gets a portion of dem, _vrai_?" Remy was leaning back in his chair, his hands locked together while he worked out his thought process.

"From my understanding, that is how her mutation performs," McCoy had never had a chance to fully examine the aspects of Rogue's mutancy. It was a curious one at that, and he wished he had the opportunity to study it wholly.

"An' dere powers fade after a period of time, leavin' her wit' de copy of de person and dere memories. So eventually dey would get cluttered wit'in her head, giving her a chaotic mind."

"No wonder the Professor looked so winded after a session with her," Bobby murmured under his breath, yet it was loud enough for everyone else to hear.

The room was silent again. She chewed on her fingernail; it was a nervous habit she'd believed gone from her system. Apparently it was just hiding, waiting for the opportune moment. "But…shouldn't the psyches have disappeared. I mean Rogue took the cure," Kitty's hazel eyes were wide and unfocused.

"I believe I have the solution to that, quandary. The cure is primarily to suppress and destroy the mutant strain in our DNA. Now that counts on the molecular and cellular levels. But if I am correct in my assumption, the psyches that Rogue possesses, they are in her brain," Hank looked over some of the notes left by Jean concerning Rogue. "Therefore they are not part of the mutation itself, they are more like a memory and imprinted as such. So they are probably repressed on some way, giving off that chaotic appeal."

Betsy nodded. "That would make sense. Due to the fact that Rogue hasn't dealt with and analyzed that memories they just build up as clutter in the back of her mind."

"Precisely."

"So, zen what do we do for her now?" Piotr kept his hands atop the petite brunette's shoulder, while keeping his face unreadable.

"Nothing, we just have to wait for her to recover and wake up," the doctor seemed extremely pained to have to say that very thing. He didn't want to wait for her to simply wake up, and he knew the others wouldn't either.

Kitty let out a long sigh. "So, we just have to sit here?"

"Unfortunately, ye—"

The doors swished open and a short man strode into the room possessively. He seemed to radiate fury and irritation, not to mention an unhealthy dose of worry. "Doc, what the _hell_ happened?"

- - - - -

It was bright out. The sun was shining on one of those perfect days in which the sky is blue; the sun is warm and most often children are stuck inside an educational prison. Except that today is a Saturday and the population of Los Angeles is free to roam where they please.

In a park, not far from the recently ruined Golden Gate Bridge, there was a bustle of life. Couples walked along the beaten path, hand in hand happy to share the gorgeous day with one another. Families came for an outing as a way to build unity and love among them. Along with letting the children work off some of their stored energy. Friends ran along the sides of the path, to take advantage of the day with a physical workout. Among them all were the simple wooden tables that held a chess board each, with play clocks and pieces.

At one table sat a man without a partner. He was older in appearance but not so much that he couldn't scold an unruly grandchild. He wore dark plaid jacket that had seen better days. His black cap, which had been more fashionable in the earlier twentieth century, was in direct contrast to hair that was more salt than pepper. Every day this man would come to the park, and everyday he would sit down at the same table, starring down at the pieces.

The little silver and gold pieces were victim to his scrutiny. The fervor with which he looked at them told of a man who had seen many things in his life, many great and terrible things alike, but things all the same. Those memories were haunting his conscience, evident through his hollow eyes.

Most likely he was in several different types of denial at that moment, for whatever had gone wrong in his life. Perhaps he had been forced into an early retirement from a job he adored. Or maybe it was from a job he loathed, but a job nonetheless. Mayhap his wife of some number of years had kicked him out, or just flat out left him for another man. It could be that his wife had died, or some other important family member and the ache had just consumed him.

Something had happened to this man to make him act the way he currently was. But there was also a foreign sense of power and confidence around him. It was almost as if he was a leader who had fallen from his previous prestige because of a loss of skill. People would steer around him due to the instinct that he was someone to not be messed with, even in his empty state.

Cerulean eyes bore down on the figure of a metallic queen. There was angry and determination in that stare. It was as if his life depended on that queen.

And then the queen gave an ungainly wobble. And a self-satisfied smirk appeared on the old man's face.

- - - - -

Mirrors, she despised mirrors.

And the irony of it all was that they had once ruled her. She loved nothing more to find something to which she could gaze upon her reflection and make altercations to her appearance. Such a simple joy, and without it now her life left empty.

Her blue eyes were pained glimpse her own reflection. Mentally, she ripped the image she saw apart. Gone was the tanned Caucasian skin, disappeared was the short blackened hair, and gone were the azure eyes. Replacing them was a flesh of a deep navy hue and small scales, and fiery hair that stuck firmly against her scalp along with her glowing and haunting golden eyes. But they were all gone now.

And it was all because of _him_.

_She_ had saved him, prevented him from the horrible fate she now endured. The feeling of loss and longing for what she had once had. And all he had done was look at her with pity and utter, "You're not one of us anymore."

It hurt worse than the dart had. More than that wretched cure had. She had never been so betrayed. And she had done _everything_ for him. Gone along with countless missions, countless schemes, broken him out of prison and took a bullet for him, all for nothing. She knew her vain try with the government for revenge would most likely never work, but she had to try.

Personally, she hoped he got shot. The irony would do her heart good.

The real issue wasn't him though. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he occupied all of her thoughts. She only plotted revenge from nine to five. That was during the period that she worked. Worked, like a homo sapien, like some baseline that didn't know and didn't care what went on around them. Unfortunately that's what she was now, normal, a human. She was the very thing that she despised.

It didn't matter that her appearance had changed her ideals remained the same. She didn't want to be one of them; she truly didn't want to go that close to them. Her eyes looked back into the mirror and a rage filled her. She slammed her fist into the center of the glassy surface. The force caused it to fragment and leave a small indent where her flesh had been. Crimson blood ran down in rivets from her knuckles.

She relished the pain.

For her it was something to focus on, something that was oddly familiar to her, and comforting in that very way. It was wonderful and horrible at the same time. But it was something besides the current setbacks in her life.

Her head went to rest against the broken surface. Little pieces cut into her skin, but she didn't mind. Her hands clenched the edge of the porcelain sink, as the blood ran down its white fixture. She took several deep breaths before looking into the fragmented mirror again.

Golden eyes starred back.

- - - - -

Her eyes snapped open.

She could hear beeping around her, and it increased in speed as her heart rate and breathing inclined. Rogue looked around her panicked. She didn't know where she was. It was too white, way to white to be her room. It didn't resemble Kitty or Jubilee or even Betsy's room. Taking stock of the room, she noticed the various machines and wires that were linked to her.

Med lab, she was in the med lab. Why, she didn't know. But she felt perfectly healthy. She actually felt better than she had in a few weeks. "It's probably just Kitty jumin' the gun on a little headache," she muttered to herself.

Carefully, she unhooked herself from the machines, and turned them so they wouldn't make the irritating bleeping they are prone to make once unhooked. She found that she was wearing some of the Institute issued clothing. Most likely it was easier to treat her that way, that way no damage happened to her clothes. In any case, she was awake, and she wanted her _own_ clothes. Which meant one thing; she had to get to her room.

But, she knew that for whatever reason she was down there, Dr. McCoy would not want her to simply walk off. So, she thought about the sneakiest and quietest person she knew. Her mind brought up a picture of a tanned man, with long auburn hair and burning ruby eyes; Remy. He walked the quietest of anyone she knew. She took to trying to mirror Remy's actions and sneak from the med lab as quickly and quietly as she could manage.

Rogue was nearly caught coming off of the elevator. Someone had walked past, and she just pushed herself into a corner and closed her eyes. A tingling feeling same over her and when it stopped, she closed her eyes. Whoever had walked past was gone. The coast was clear.

The door creaked slightly when she opened it. Her room was dark and smelled faintly of metal, a very coppery smell. She worked her way through the shadowy room and over towards her closet. She shed her previous clothes on the way, letting them be strewn over various surfaces in her room. Standing before her closet, she wanted nothing more than to be in a nice pair of pajamas and go to sleep.

Except that she wanted to put on short and go for a swim. No, she would rather just throw on a pair of jeans a shirt and go find her friends—maybe even a guy. She _really_ wanted to put on something slinky and sexy and find a nice club, and some guy and dance her heart out.

That thought stayed prevalent in her mind. She reached for a pleated plaid miniskirt. It was a mixture of greens, blues and browns that gave off that impish schoolgirl appeal. Of course the bikini style leather top she chose didn't give much to that assessment. She put on a pair of black boots that peaked just above her ankle in a slouched manner. She added some earrings and a ribbon around her neck. Looking at her reflection, she put on an almost sheer fishnet shirt that was matched to her skin tone.

She looked herself over in the mirror. "Not bad, but something's missing," she murmured to herself. She watched as the girl in the mirror gained a studded belt around her hips. Slowly the fishnet shrunk until it took three quarters of her arm length and cut off right below her sternal notch. "Hair still needs work."

Her hair was mussed from lying on a pillow for several odd hours. In a blink the waves flattened as if ironed. They hung in straight lines along the sides of her face, with her bangs accenting it all. "Yuck, I don't see how I let it get like this," her bangs shortened to be swept sideways across her face. The rest of her hair shorted until it was shoulder length and at odd layers. Smiling she blinked as smoky make-up appeared on her face.

"Perfect," she drawled. Going over to the window, she opened it, letting the wind flutter the flimsy curtains. Looking down at the drop below, she was forced to gaze at her heels. "Pretty, but not practical," they were replaced with knee high combat boots. With that she launched herself out of the window and into the night.

Her feet hit the ground and she was off. She wound her way through the institute grounds until she was safely on the road. Then she set to walking in the brisk weather towards the city. She stopped for a moment and looked at the park across the street from her. A smile appeared on her face as she crossed the avenue to get to the park. Once her feet hit the ground, she was overcome with a childlike glee. She instantly went over to the swings. Her feet left the ground and she was slicing through the air. It felt wonderful.

Then, she jumped. And she could feel the air around her in patterns. They were beautiful. She could feel the hum over her skin. Her eyes had closed, and she opened them again. She wanted to see the patterns again. But she made a mistake; she looked down.

And she fell.

She had risen somehow, and she didn't know how. But she had. And the ground was coming up quickly. She curled up in a ball and closed her eyes, waiting for the impact. But all she felt was solid—yet soft ground beneath her and the aroma of sulfur around her. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was in the grass, and the last dregs of a bluish smoke wafting in the air.

Getting to her feet clumsily she looked around. She was on the other side of the park. The swings were perhaps ten feet away. She had gotten in the air somehow, fallen and then got all the way over here. "Cool," she smiled with this new realization.

Her smile grew as the park was once again filled with the smell of sulfur and a bluish smoke. It was however missing one rogue.

- - - - -

Hank couldn't remember the last time he was this tired. He knew most of it had to do with being up most all of the previous night to work on Rogue and her fever. But currently he couldn't find himself tired enough to sleep. Sure, his eyelids would succumb to gravity's pull once in awhile, but he'd blink and the drowsy spell would be over. Figuring all he needed was a nice boost of energy he went towards the small fridge he kept in his lab. After that, he would go check on Rogue.

He bent down to the small fridge and rooted in the back for a canister of green tea he had stashed in there for such an emergency. Glancing around he noticed a vial with the inscription 'ROGUE' across it. It was filled with what looked like blood. "Interesting, I don't recall examining her blood."

Curiosity got the better of him and he took out the vial and left his tea in the fridge. He brought the blood over to the nearest microscope. Depositing a drop onto a slide, he deposited himself onto the handy stool nearby. Adjusting his glasses, Hank peered down at Rogue's blood.

Blood in and of itself is fascinating. It is used as one of the most common factors in diagnostic investigations. It can be used to link a killer to a crime scene. Or it could save someone's life. In myth, it could also be drunk by those with elongated canines. It is one of the main components that keep humans alive. And it can kill them just as easily. It also gives a scientists insight to a persons' well being.

And currently what he saw showed him nothing out of the ordinary. Although this blood was at least a month old, so it wouldn't be an accurate depiction of Rogue's health. Chuckling to himself, he wiped his glasses off and thought again about his tea. He'd been sidetracked from that and his patient. Looking down fondly at the microscope, he decided to take one last glance before he went for his tea.

And what he saw made him gasp in amazement.

Rogue had taken the cure. And in taking the cure, her X gene had been eviscerated. It was completely devoid of her body, leaving her a baseline human. Still, little remnants of the cure lay within her bloodstream, ready and waiting incase any trace of her mutation regenerated itself from the ashes. But the cure stuck out from her normal red and white blood cells.

But then select cells multiplied. Going through a rapid mitosis. They grouped around a portion of the cure and mobbed it, much a flock of crows mobs a predator. In a matter of minutes the cells had destroyed all of the cure, much like the cure destroyed mutation. Except the only possible reason for making the cure disappear was to activate a mutation again. It was then the realization hit Hank, full force.

The cure didn't last.

And all he could do was utter a heartfelt and drawn out, "Oh dear."

- - - - -

New York City was alive.

That was one of the reasons she loved the big apple. All the glitz and glamour that it entailed. And the added bonus of having excitement going down at least somewhere in the city. And what made it even better that night was that she was free. Free from the Institute and any responsibility it entailed. Not to mention she was able to go anywhere she wanted. She could teleport.

It had to be one of the most amazing things she'd ever done. To go anywhere, anytime she wanted, that was true freedom. The only downside was the tell tale bluish smoke that she left behind and the strong smell of sulfur, which to her smelt like rotten eggs.

But it was so liberating that she didn't care.

She did however want to find a suitable club to occupy her time. Opening up her mind, she began to search those inside ones that she passed by. Some of the things she saw made her smile, and others made her cringe. But she kept on walking until she found one to her liking. Smirking she approached the bouncer.

He was however to all manner of people coming up to him, trying to weasel their way into the club he worked at. The girl standing before him was no different. Although he always did enjoy women's attempts to get into a club. They pawned themselves off like it was no deal.

Rogue looked up at him and smiled seductively. "Hey there."

"Hello."

"Ah wanted to ask you a question," she bit her lip carefully while looking up at him, letting her southern drawl take over.

"The answer is no," the bouncer replied stoically, keeping his eyes focused above her head.

She rolled her eyes. "Yah don't even know what Ah was going to ask. Ah was wondering what the club was like?" At the same time she asked the question, she opened her mind up and focused on the bouncer's mind.

His question brought forth an image of a darkly lit room. The bar was off to one side, with back lighting around it to make sure it was easily found. There were several scatterings of tables around the rest of the room. And then there was a stage and a dance floor directly by it. She kept searching and found several memories of him in a pinkish bathroom stall. He was pressed against the wall with some blonde girl—Tina kissing him.

Rogue smiled while stopping from seeing the rest of the memory.

"It's your typical club sweetheart, now why don't you go get in line," he suggested gruffly.

She sweetened her smile slightly before giving him a quick peck on the check. "Alright darlin', thanks so much for the help," And then she walked off, leaving him extremely confused. Rogue found the nearest dark corner to hide herself in, and then she focused on the picture she had gained from the bouncers mind. With her eyes closed she teleported herself into the ladies room on the inside of the club.

"Ew! God did someone just let one rip?"

"Man, someone needs to take Beano."

Suppressing a chuckle, Rogue strode out of the room and into the club. She couldn't help but grin at all the life that she saw. This was going to be fun. With a purpose she went towards the bar to start the night off with a nice drink. Then it would be time to let off some steam.

- - - - -

After the revelation that Rogue's mutation might be coming back due to her blood's indication, Hank had vacated the lab quickly. He had run, more like galloped to Rogue's room. When he got there though, the sight was anything but welcome.

The bed was empty.

Not just empty, but it almost looked made up. Exactly how a doctor would leave it, which Rogue was definitely not. That thought, along with the fact that Betsy had witnessed the several psyches still residing inside of the Southerners head gave him cause to worry.

As quickly as he could manage he made his way upstairs and made his way up to the girl's dormitories. It was there that he encountered Kitty, Betsy and Jubilee walking most likely to go check on Rogue.

"Mr. McCoy! You're up here! Does that mean something's changed with Rogue?" Kitty asked, her face lighting up with the hope that her friend could have improved.

"In a manner, yes there has been a change. But not in most senses, you see, Rogue is not in her bed anymore," he heard three sharp intakes of breath. "Now, before we panic, I wanted to ask one of you to look inside her room and see if she is there."

"Sure thing Big Blue," Jubilee exclaimed before heading to Rogue's room. She forewent knocking and just marched right into the room. The others were on her heels when they heard an exasperated, "Damn."

That revelation caused them to increase their already hasty pace. What they saw inside the room was not encouraging. There was no Rogue first and foremost, secondly the Institute clothes she had been in previously had been shed in various places in the room (odd behavior for a usually neat Rogue) and the fluttering of the curtains from the open window.

"It seems that she has vacated the premises."

Betsy, with her fingers near her temple confirmed the statement after a scan of the grounds. "This isn't looking good, luv."

"Elisabeth, could you contact the others to meet in the Professor's office," Hank requested while he wrung his hands in an effort to relieve the tension he was currently feeling in his muscles. It didn't help any. So he simply left her room to go towards the Professor's office.

Once he reached his destination, he sat on the edge of the desk and wiped his glasses. But he didn't replace them; he simply let his hands reside over his eyes. His fingers moved to massage his brow to try and alleviate some of his worry. "Stars and garters, it's all my fault."

Kitty sitting nearby went over to lay a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault. There was no way you would know that this would happen to Rogue."

"That statement should be retracted Katherine."

"How many times have I told you to call me Kitty?"

Hank smiled slightly, it was forced but it was present. "My apologies. My mind is not in its usual state. It's just that Rogue—no. I should wait for the others. Pardon me."

She offered a smile while curiously wondering what had gotten him so worried, so worried about Rogue. He seemed more concerned as a friend then as a doctor. They waited in silence until the room was filled with all of the major staff at Xavier's. That included Logan, Ororo, Warren, Betsy, Bobby, Piotr, Jubilee, Kurt, Remy and Kitty.

Hank stood in the unwitting center of a semi-circle and gazed at the other occupants. "I have upsetting news. Rogue has woken up."

"And that's upsetting how?" Logan asked with a smirk on his face.

"If you would let me finish you would know," Hank snapped. He took a small breath. "Forgive me. The problem is that Rogue did not just wake up, she left the institute grounds. And to make matters worse I recently discovered something in an old blood sample that indicates the cure is not permanent."

"I can see why zis is a problem, but why do you look zat worried _freund_?" Kurt asked the question that was on most of their minds.

His large blue hands twisted and turned. "The reason Kurt is because the fervor with which I saw Rogue's cells attack the remnants of the cure can not possibly be sustained within a human body. The repercussions would be less than optimal and dire at most."

"What do you mean dire?" Ororo was more concerned for what could possibly happen to one of her close friend.

"Simply that with her genes regenerating her mutation, Rogue could die."

- - - - -

Rogue had waited awhile before she went out onto the dance floor. She'd let the alcohol infiltrate her system, calming her nerves and soothing any worries she had. She was relaxed, possibly the most relaxed she had ever been in her life. It was amazing.

She wasn't quite sure what the deejay had started to play, but honestly she didn't care. She just let the music flow over her, let it consume her. Her eyes were closed and she danced for herself and no one else. Her senses were attuned to the club. She could hear the buzz in the occupants' minds, hear their every thought. Along with their baited breath and the aroma they each released. She was caught up in all the new sensations that she was experiencing.

So lost in the feelings, that she didn't notice someone come up behind her and run their hand over her arm. Instantly, Rogue's eyes snapped open to stare up at the person. Noticing the slightly taller man with striking brown hair and brown eyes behind her, she grinned.

From what she could tell of her brief scan, he was wearing dark jeans and a washed dark and light green shirt with five yellow circles extending like legs from one larger one. Not that her mind really cared for details at the moment. Her smile increased as she put her hands on his hips and he reciprocated the action. She had a feeling this dance was going to be fun.

Farther off in the bar, a blonde woman sat at the bar. She had ordered drink after drink to no avail. Her stupid invulnerability had a way of dulling the alcohol's affects. She was Carol Susan Jane Danvers, a modern wonder woman and despite all her powers, all she wanted at that moment was to get so thoroughly drunk that she couldn't stand let alone fly.

So here she was, trying to get drunk because she'd had another fight with Michael. And all around her were couples dancing, drinking, laughing and kissing. And it just kept reminding her that she was alone at that moment. Her cornflower eyes peered over the dance floor. She noticed a rather racy dance between a skunk haired woman and a familiar looking man. Hadn't she seen his photo in some file?

She watched the woman's antics and had to roll her eyes. The girl was acting extremely sluttish. Carol's attention was drawn from the couple to the clubs entrance. A large group of people had just entered the club and they didn't resemble someone going out to have fun, no they were looking for something, or someone.

Curiously she noticed the people split up and start to wade through the crowds. Something about them seemed vaguely familiar. But then hadn't numerous things seemed like that, that night? Sighing, Carol returned to her drink as her seventh sense picked something up.

Rogue was too absorbed in her dancing to notice her friends enter the club. She felt the man in the green shirt run his hands over the small of her back. And for some reason she felt a rush of air and energy and got the feeling that his name was James, but he preferred to be called Jamie by his friends.

She hadn't even scanned his mind. Maybe he had told her that. Who knew who cared? Not her. She kept dancing until she felt a hand grasp down on her shoulder. She instantly shot a glare at whoever it was, and thought she could feel Jamie's glare as well.

"Can Ah help you?"

"Rogue, what are you doing here?" Behind her stood a very distraught Bobby Drake. He wasn't his usual neat and clean self; his clothes seemed a little wrinkled as if he'd slept in them.

Rogue tilted her head sideways while not lessening her glare any. "Ah'm sorry Bobby, but since when has what Ah do been you're business? Why don't yah go find Kitty?"

"We've been through this before. You forgave me remember?" Bobby grabbed her arm. "Come on, the others are here, we've all been worried about you. You shouldn't just leave like that."

"Ah can do whatever Ah damn well please. Leave. Meh. Alone." Rogue pulled her arm from his grasp and went backwards until her back hit Jamie's chest.

Jamie wrapped an arm around her waist. "Do as the lady says, man."

"Stay out of this," Bobby snapped at the other man. "Rogue, come on, you're sick. The Doc. needs to run some tests to figure out why you collapsed."

"He'll just have to wait. I have some business," she looked up at Jamie and licked her lips, "to attend to." And she turned around in Jamie's arms and then started to lead him away from Bobby.

'_Guys, I found her_' Bobby projected towards Betsy, who would pass the message unto the rest of the group. He wadded his way through the crowd in pursuit of Rogue, having momentarily lost her to contact Betsy.

Rogue looked back to see not a glimpse of Bobby. She smirked and looked up at Jamie. "Ah think Ah owe you a thank you."

"I like the sound of that."

"So do Ah," Rogue stood on her tip toes to connect her lips to his. As soon as she did, she felt a familiar and foreign sensation; absorption. Instantly she felt thoughts and feeling rushing into her. She pushed him away from her, and barely noted that he fell to the ground. She clutched her head and pulled on her hair. It was getting warmer all of a sudden.

Her knees gave way and she fell to her knees, gasping for breaths of air. She was rocking back and forth, trying to get control of what was happening to her when she a hand on her shoulder. She looked up into the icy eyes.

"Rogue, we need to get you home," Bobby said slowly as he rubbed her shoulder supportively.

Obediently she nodded, the action causing her neck to move a little and his thumb to come in contact with her exposed neck. He crashed to the floor the same as Jamie, and she had to fight to get his limp hand from her neck. She scrambled backwards on the floor, away from the two unconscious men. There was crowd around her now.

"What did she do?"

"It's a mutie! I thought we got rid of them!"

Someone approached her and took hold of her lower and exposed arm. "Hey yo—" but they were cut off as she felt them drain into her. She had to pry them off again. At this point she could almost register tears streaming down her face. She rocked back and forth as she tried to wade through everything that was happening. Her head felt like it was splitting in two. It was on fire, ready to explode. She felt one more person touch her, and then she screamed.

It was like air, like air rushing through the tiny holes in fabric when you twirl in a circle. That's what it felt like, especially due to the fishnet top she wore. She could feel a time of energy field emit from her body, and it was absorbing everything and everyone around her. Personalities swarmed her subconscious at a rapid rate, too fast for her to process. She couldn't tell if she was the one still screaming, or if it was the screams of everyone else in the club that she was slowly absorbing.

And worse of all, she didn't think it was going to stop.

The others looked on horrified as they heard Rogue scream. Then they noticed several people collapse on the ground. "Goddess, she's absorbing them!" Ororo muttered astonished.

Betsy immediately tried to reach inside Rogue's mind. She suppressed a scream but kept on going, to try and knock Rogue out in vain. It didn't work though. Sweat ran down her brow from the effort until eventually she crumbled on the floor, out cold.

Seeing this, Ororo moved into a commanding role. "Everyone try and incapacitate Rogue, we need to stop this before something happens."

They others nodded their consent and set off to do what they could.

At the bar, Carol couldn't help but sigh. Did her job ever end? Being government sucked sometimes. Apparently that hussy of a girl was causing a scene. She'd probably gotten too drunk and her partner too fresh so she knocked him out, and then the proceeding people who tried to help. Some people just shouldn't be allowed near alcoholic beverages.

Grudgingly, she tried to make her way through the crowd. Seeing that not happen, she gave up and just simply floated to the ceiling and then towards the girl. She picked her up by her upper arms and held her firmly, her skin being imprinted by the girl's fishnet shirt.

"Listen up, sweetheart, you better stop this right now or I'l—" Carol was cut short as she felt her breath catch. And then in an attempt to get it back and continue to rant at the teen, she took a deep breath. It didn't help any. Her eyes were stuck looking down at the helpless girl's bright green eyes, with tears leaking out of them. Her face was terrified. Carol could feel her feet giving under her and she fell forwards, causing the girl to be knocked down and trapped under her.

Rogue was helplessly trapped. When the woman had grabbed her arms, she'd tried to escape but the woman's grip was too strong and she was stuck. Gasping, she felt the woman drain into her. And then they had pitched over, and Rogue was too weak from the multiple absorptions to possible move the woman, who was weakening and unable to move herself.

She screamed and someone else screamed with her. And then her world went black.

- - - - -

She was looking in the mirror.

The fragments were still hanging in place for the most part. And it was making her increasingly happy to notice the blue returning to her skin and the red to her hair. She was becoming Mystique again.

Once she had her powers fully back she wouldn't hesitate to get revenge on Eric. That two timing bastard was going to pay for the pain he caused her. Did he even know how painful it had been to lose her gift? It was what she imagined a seizure was like with the feeling of being ripped in half. It was horrible and terrifying and so real that she didn't even want to admit it was there.

Originally she had planned to shot him with a cure dart and then with a bullet or more than likely several in choice portions of his body. It would have been liberating to see the Master of Magnetism be destroyed by a small piece of metal. She could have at least made the most of her life that way.

But now, her powers were coming back; she was coming back. And her plan could be far more sinister.

She watched fascinated, like she had when she first received her power as a child, as her skin changed. It flushed a navy, with a brilliant red atop her head in contrast. Her golden eyes stared back at her, and her expression held a smirk. She was back.

Bit by bit she changed facets of her appearance, to make sure that she still understood how it worked after an impromptu absence. Her eyes turned blue, her height increased along with her build as her hair turned a silvery color. She looked at the reflection of Eric Lensherr. Slowly she drew a finger over his throat in a prediction of what would happen the next time she saw him.

Then slowly she morphed into Pyro, who like Magneto had left her on the transport to rot. He'd get his just desserts for that too. She turned into each member of the Brotherhood in turn and then into the X-men to prove that her powers had returned. She ended on the green eyed, and auburn haired form of Rogue. Looking at the reflection, something burned in the corner of her mind. Those eyes were familiar somehow.

Shaking that thought off, Mystique reverted to her natural form. She smirked and started towards the bathroom door. But, she was formed to brace herself as a wave of nausea hit her. The temperature seemed to increase. She looked down at the floor to see it spinning. So instead she tried to focus on her hands, but they were no longer blue, they were old and wrinkled. And then they were small and dainty.

Horrified, she gazed into the mirror to see her appearance change every five seconds. The changes started to make her feel sick again. Her eyes fluttered up into her head and she grasped for the sink as she fell over, but missed it entirely. Her head hit the bathmat as her body curled up, while still rapidly changing and her eyelids closed.

- - - - -

He was in a junkyard, alone and feeling incredible.

All around him he could feel the metal. He was Magneto again. A smirk crossed his face as he wondered what the pitiful X-men of Charles would think to know that he had his powers back. They would be afraid no doubt, and he reveled in their expected fear.

He was Eric Magnus Lensherr. He'd survived the Holocaust and he survived the cure. He truly felt like he could do anything and everything. But knowing his strength would be that of a new born kittens' at first, he took to moving small objects of metal and attuning himself to the feel of the metal around him again. He'd even levitated some.

It was great to be back. Reinstated to his former glory. Slowly he could feel the metallic hum around him through the core of his body. He grasped at various objects and they took to orbiting around him. It was calm and relaxing.

The only implications of this meant that the cure was not permanent, which meant Mystique would be coming for him eventually. It was no matter though, he already felt stronger than he had been previously. Perhaps it was an after affect of the cure.

Bit by bit Eric added larger objects of metal to his rings. In a short amount of time he had things from an aluminum can tab to a standard vehicle. The metal bent and broke to his every wish. It moved with a grace and purpose that human could not understand. Not many people, humans and mutants alike, could understand and grasp the intricate beauty of metal.

Eric always could.

He started to feel warmer throughout his body. But he dismissed the thought. Then the temperature increased and he felt slightly dizzy. He closed his eyes briefly letting the power just flow through him. But when he opened his eyes again, he was floating in the center of the rings, and they had grown in size.

His blue eyes widened slightly at the sight around him. He had no clue how it had happened. Or why it was happening for that matter. In truth it frightened him to have his powers acting out of his control. They were supposed to obey his every wish along with the magnetism that they affected. He was in control, not the other way around.

That's not how things happened for him though.

The metal circled faster, blending together into seamless metallic rings. They expanded to the length of his body. He felt the raw power moving through is body and clenched his teeth to try and rein it back in. It wasn't working. A jolt went through him and he let out an antagonized scream. His body went limp as his eyes shut. He fell to the ground, hitting it with a resounding sound. The air was filled with the clinking sound as the metallic discs fell directly around him and began to rotate around his prone form.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Well, I made my deadline. That's a first. And in an effort to get this out on time, I'm going to edit tomorrow. So, sorry for the weird mistakes you found. And yeah…another cliffhanger and another loss of consciousness for Rogue. But she will be alive and kicking for the next chapter. Now, for some general notes on what happened in the chapter. There are little insights to Mystique and Magneto regaining their powers and then having them overload. And Hank finally rediscovers Rogue's blood sample. 

And Rogue uses various powers that she's absorbed before once she is awake (except she'd not really there), and they are as follows: Logan, Mystique, Ororo, Kurt, and Jean/Professor. The best way I can explain how Rogue's power overloaded it like a bomb when it hits. Its drastic and quick, and then the smoke cloud kind of billows outwards, that's what Rogue's powers were doing. And then with the prolonged Carol contact, it came back rushing in to Rogue, knocking her out with the force. I know it's a little…alright a lot AU, but this'll work itself out eventually. So I wonder what happens to Rogue now.

_Reviews_ –_ Lovestoread,_ It's good to hear you enjoyed the chapter. And sorry…but I think you might be on the edge a little longer. _xLiLix,_ no need for begging, I got the chapter done. Sorry for another cliffy. _Lee,_ I'm happy that you like the story so far. I try to make it as exciting as possible. Gotta take care of my readers. _Likewise,_ Good to know you like it so far. Here's the next chapter.THANK YOU, everyone for the reviews. I appreciate them all!

Coming Up: Revelations and repercussions.

Translations:

French

_Chére –_ Dear (a term of endearment)

_Non_ – No

_Merde_ – Shit

_Oui _ – Yes

_Femme_ – Woman

_Fou _ – Crazy

_Vrai_ – True

German

_freund_ – Friend


	10. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER IX**

_If I had my way I'd wish them away,  
but I can't find the magic inside of me.  
I'll give my best, cause I can give no more,  
but your problems aren't solved so easily.  
I'm not someone that you should run to.  
I've been, often, as broken as you,  
more often than you'd like me to.  
If I could heal all the pain that you feel,  
I'd gladly cure all that ails you inside._

- _Wake-Up Call by_ AFI

- - - - -

Panic is one of those natural defense mechanism employed by the body, its neighbors with denial and displacement. It's that one emotion we will indulge in once in awhile because we truly can't help it. We feel such an unbridled terror that panic is our only plausible option. And panic is not easily controlled by force of will, its present each and every time we have that emotion. It's something that won't go away.

And what more reason for panic than an out of control mutant?

People were flooding from every pore imaginable of the club. It didn't even look like it could contain that many people in the first place. Maybe they had all been passed out and hidden under the tables so as to not distract other patrons. But he highly doubted it.

Remy was being shoved every which way and it was all in a sort of haze that he observed it all. It was almost as if he was moving faster than everyone else in the room. That, or everyone was moving average and he was at a snails pace. It was almost like a blur created around his figure.

He had experience moving through crowds, having used them to his advantage several times before. But this time he wasn't out to pick any pockets. This was a mob, not a crowd, and they all wanted to reach the exits as quickly as possible. He barely slid out of the way of a bulky man, who had a woman attached to his arm.

His action of avoidance made him nearer to another woman, who upon the disturbance looked up. A sly smile formed as she pressed herself a little closer towards his body. Remy offered a weak grin before he moved on, leaving the woman to the crowd. It was amazing to think that she would act that way in a crisis, or what they believed to be one. But she didn't know that Rogue was in here somewhere, and she was in trouble.

Everywhere there were people. In every way he went, his only direction was opposition. Going against the current of bodies towards whatever had caused this. He had no doubt the girl he was looking for would be there. She had a knack for trouble. They were alike in that sense. His tinted eyes met those of another, and he saw the terror lying there. He'd seen it reflected upon him several times on account of his eyes. This time though, it wasn't caused by him.

As he moved away from the eyes, they followed him, reflecting confusion. Just as rapidly as that action took place, they moved forward once again, focused. But he had glimpsed the confusion. The wonderment at what he was doing, willingly going towards the source, whatever it was. They thought he was insane, and maybe he was. But in all honesty his brain was focused on where that terrified scream had emitted from.

It was another few minutes before he finally propelled himself through the last barrier. And he stumbled when he reached open space. His head had snapped down to his chest, and he gazed forward again. What he found was frightening.

It was a circle of bodies. All of them just crumpled unto the floor in various states of unconsciousness. Glancing down at his feet, he noticed that he had tripped over one of them. There was a heavy layering of them around the edges of the circle, but they seemed to get thinner as he worked his way to the center. It was almost as if people had begun to run away from whatever had caused this to happen.

The thinning continued. He glanced down at a man that looked his age, and was wearing a green shirt with a yellow design imprinted on it. Next he came upon the prone form of Bobby. Leaning down, he checked to make sure the boy was still alive before continuing to look for Rogue. Bobby would be there when he got back.

Walking a circuit around the bodies, he didn't notice her. It was the second—perhaps the third or fourth—time that he went around that he saw a shock of auburn hair and a small piece of white peeking out. Normally he would have seen this right off the bat, but he was panicked. There was a reason he didn't notice though; someone was on top of her, a blonde someone. Hauling her off, as gently as he could, he turned the mystery woman so that she lay on her back. He felt for vital signs and only got the faintest vibration from her pulse. That didn't bode well.

Remy looked back at Rogue. And he almost didn't recognize her. First off her hair was different, cut into bangs and almost choppy layers. Her emerald eyes were caged beneath eyelids with a considerable amount of dark makeup he'd seen on many women before. It usually gave off a sultry appeal. And her outfit was something that he hadn't seen on her before. Sure he'd been at the mansion for a month or so, but he'd gotten a feel for people's comfort zones.

Jubilee liked vibrant colors, centering on yellow, which she loved to off set with black. Kitty was more into pale pinks and blues. Stuff that fit with her home in Chicago. Betsy loved purples and typically darker clothes. Ororo as always liked to look sophisticated. But she could be daring at the same time. He liked to think that had rubbed off from his time spent with her. Rogue really went all over with her clothing, but she favored things that showed little bits of her skin at a time. Not this much.

Not that he was complaining, but it would have been nice if she was conscious, and hadn't just spent the last day in the med lab.

Carefully, he wiped a stray tress of auburn from her face. It stuck stubbornness to her parted lips. She'd been screaming. His partially gloved hand ran along her soft hair. What happened to her? He was considering the best way to pick her up, not knowing the damage when he heard a noise. Straightening he let a card slip into his hand while looking for the disturbance.

A small brunette form emerged from the crowd. She'd literally gone through them all. Her hazel eyes were wide and searching. Horror was written across her features. She moved through the bodies with a sort of dazed reverence. She stopped when she saw Bobby. "Oh my god," bending down she had the same reaction as Remy, to check his pulse. She looked up and her eyes caught on his form. "What happened?"

"Not sure. But Rogue's over here."

No sooner had he said that that there was a crack in the air and sulfur became apparent to the senses. Among the odor was the rest of the search party. They stood in shock for a good time. Logan was the first to move, his head moving and his nose sniffing the air insistently. He turned towards Remy and it was like he honed in on what he saw, and smelt.

Immediately he was over there and kneeling down beside Rogue. Much in the same manner that Remy had, Logan brushed a piece of hair back from near her face. Then he lifted her back, letting an arm lope there and then the other under her knees. He stood up, cradling her to his chest and looking down at her worried.

"I got her," his usual gruff voice was hoarse.

Snapping from their haze, Jubilee walked over towards Kitty near Bobby's body. Together they both heaved him up, putting his arms around their shoulders while they attempted to balance him. Piotr walked over to the pair, and deposited Bobby's form across his shoulder.

Remy looked down at the blond woman. Something nagged at the back of his mind about her. Gingerly, he bent and picked her up. He walked towards where the others were now assembled. Kurt kept looking down at Rogue, trying to decide what had happened to her. Hank and Ororo just stared at the scene around them.

"Who is that?" Ororo asked when he had finally approached.

"M' not sure. Found her atop Rogue. Figured when she wakes up, she might be able to help us out."

Hank nodded while still surveying the scene. "I believe we should vacate the premises, the police will be here in no time."

"That is probably a good idea. Come on Remy, we're leaving."

- - - - -

It had taken a little bit to get everyone organized. It seemed as though everyone had someone in there arms. Warren had collected Betsy from the floor. Piotr had Bobby, who he'd taken from Jubilee and Kitty, Remy had the mysterious blond woman and Logan had Rogue. They had gotten them all back to the mansion and into the infirmary. It has been decided that with the authorities no doubt arriving, they should not be found there.

"Remy, put that woman in the far room. Piotr, Warren, if you would put them in the double room. And Logan, if my original patient could be returned to her room, that would be appreciated," Hank directed his patients whereabouts like a conductor instructed musicians.

The furry mutant expressed a desire to have someone sit inside each room until the occupants awoke. Logan and Kurt moved to stay in Rogue's room, while Piotr, Warren, Kitty and Jubilee went to Betsy and Bobby's room. Since Ororo had set about to help Hank that left Remy to stay with the mystery woman. There was a whole room in between this one and Rogue's.

The closest he could figure to what had happened at the club was that she had somehow started to absorb people. That or someone went crazy with a bat. But as the people had no marks on them and looked randomly yet systematically knocked down, it couldn't be some crazed person with a wooden length. Or aluminum depending on their damage range. Not that it mattered because he ruled that possibility out.

So how was Rogue absorbing people?

He'd never personally felt the effects so he wasn't sure of the signs, or the after effects. Although from knowledge of other students he had gleaned that it was instantaneous and it felt like she was drawing the life right out of them. Some of the males said they wouldn't have cared how weak they got from it, as long as she gave it in the form of a kiss.

Somehow Remy didn't think she'd have done that. Thinking back to when he'd first met her though, he couldn't help but wonder why he didn't get absorbed. He'd kissed her. He remembered that vividly. And if not, he sure couldn't forget the nice slap she'd given him the next time she'd seen him up close, as a thank you. He grinned briefly; she was beautiful when she was angry.

Turning his head he looked down at the blond woman. Where did she fit into all of this? If Rogue had been absorbing people, she would have had the foresight to remove herself from the others. Maybe this woman had wanted to do something about an out of control mutant? She'd been hostile and forced Rogue to make a move. Or, in a different direction, maybe she had been trying to help. She could be a fellow mutant or just a sympathizer.

Can't very well convict her before she wakes up. Not a very ethical way to live. Still he almost wished that things would fit into nice categories. But life rarely fit guidelines. Some things just didn't apply. Humans were one of those things. They didn't like to fit the molds that are made for them, currently breaking out to be completely different.

Remy wasn't quite sure how long he leaned against the wall, observing the comatose woman. But it was long enough for Hank to finish checking the other patients. He stuck his head in and requested that Remy come out into the hall for a minute. Everyone else who was conscious was there too. They all looked questioningly at the doctor.

He adjusted his glasses in response. "Ororo and I," he tilted his head in her direction. "Have decided that its probably best if we implore one person to stay down here to watch over them all. That way they can inform the rest if there's a change."

"I'll stay," Logan volunteered immediately. Right behind him was Warren.

Before any others could offer their time, Hank held up a hand. "We know that volunteers are not the problem. Simply the fact that it is night presently makes a difference in the decision. For that reason we believe the resident insomniac should take the first watch."

Remy simply blinked, although the action went unnoticed while he wore his sunglasses. "Y' sure dis is de best idea?"

"Absolutely. You four," she motioned towards all those that had been in the joined room. "Need your rest, you don't run on energy. And Kurt, you're not made of energy either."

With a grunt Logan voiced his disproval. "And what about me 'Ro?"

"You, Logan, cannot sit still for long periods of time. I do not want any rash action on your part," Ororo looked him straight in the eye, showing that she was not about to back down.

Letting out a growl the feral mutant turned around and stalked out of the infirmary. Kurt followed, waiting until he was near the exit to port out of there. The four teens looked back at their friends before following in the same manner.

"So, dis means Remy's got de late shift _non_?"

Figuring that he might as well be comfortable, we went into Rogue's room and propped himself on one of the chairs in there. He used the edge of her bed as a place to rest his feet. He crossed his arms and bent his head slightly. From here he could clearly see what happened in all of the other rooms. To most people it would appear that he was resting, but he could see perfectly around him. A trick of the trade that he'd learned.

In the room that held the blond woman, Hank and Ororo were assessing her health. And they were talking. With the walls as barriers, he couldn't discern what they said, but he could read their lips.

"Hank, what do you think happened in there?" Ororo turned from setting up an IV in the woman's hand.

The blue mutant turned towards her, looking up from a chart. "Honestly, I'm not sure. No one has any marks upon their skin, no discolorations to show blunt trauma. I'm at a loss for what could have knocked them all out. No poisonous gasses were present; otherwise more would have been affected."

"Earlier you said that the cure wasn't permanent, so couldn't it be Rogue's mutation activating?"

"It is a possibility yes," Hank ran a large hand over his brow. "But, from what you've told me about her unique mutation, she would have had to sustain skin contact with someone. And I simply don't think it possible to absorb all of the people we found and in such an array as they were."

She wiped an ivory lock from her forehead. "There could be an aftereffect of the cure, something that would be missed, especially since the cure was believed to be lasting. We have no clue what the ramifications of an injection that can erase part of your DNA would do once reversed."

"No my dear, we do not. But whatever it was, I do not think it was by fault of Rogue herself. Or this woman for that matter," He looked down at the blond he was currently documenting.

"Any clue what happened to her?"

He checked her blood pressure trying to figure out as much about her as possible. "As far as I can tell, she was absorbed. But based on what Remy says, she had prolonged contact, much longer than any of the others."

"Could she have been absorbed permanently?" Ororo asked, worried for the woman and her friend lying in a room not far off.

"You're asking questions that can't be answered. But there are a few things that can be resolved," he reached into the pocket of the woman's pants, which caused him to receive a confused looked from his companion.

"Hank? What are you doing?"

Extracting a plain black wallet, he grinned triumphantly. "Finding out who our mystery guest is," he opened it and sighed at what he saw. Without hesitation he handed it over to the white haired woman.

She dictated it aloud. "Carols Danvers. Employed Government Agent. Known Mutant." She knew what this meant. Another mutant knocked out a mutant working for the government that already didn't trust mutants. Her azure eyes looked up into Hank's. "This isn't going to end well."

"I fear my dear, that you are correct."

- - - - -

Sometime later Hank and Ororo left the med lab all together, leaving Remy alone with the patients. He had went and turned off all of the lights in the rooms, relishing in some freedom to remove his sunglasses. He still wasn't comfortable taking them off. Although, around Rogue he didn't have to worry. It was the same with Ororo.

He started to slip into his thoughts once more when he heard a small groan. Turning his head he looked to the bed's occupant, but noticed no change in her disposition. That left him to go back to his musings. It wasn't necessarily a path that he wanted to go down, left too much to wonder. Too much to chance.

Another groan made him look to discover nothing had changed once again. He resumed thinking things over. Was it possible to be guilty for something you had no control over? It didn't seem logical to him. She groaned again. He looked. And it was a few more minutes before the process repeated.

He wasn't sure how many times he'd looked over because of some small noise, but he was becoming annoyed already. He heard another groan and muttered, "Y' mind stoppin' dat?"

And low and behold, she did. It was perhaps a good five minutes of silence before a groan split the air again. Red eyes narrowed to look upon the still form. They widened with what they saw; Rogue was floating.

Her small frame was a good six inches off of the mattress, with the sheets hanging limply around her. Her hair fell down around her head, barely touching the pillow below. Transfixed, Remy stood and walked until he was near her head. One of his hands reached out towards her, but was stopped when her pale hand caught his. Hey eyes snapped open, and they were blue.

Quicker than he knew she could move, Rogue had him flipped on the floor, sitting atop his stomach, with her knees pinning his arms. One of her arms was across his neck, pressing down on his jugular. "Who the hell are you? Where am I?"

There was no trace of a southern accent.

"_Chére_, I t'ink y' counseling on how to treat a _homme_," Remy breathed while feeling her arm tighten slightly.

"Am I somewhere in the south? Or did you employ the accent to throw me off?" She looked down at him, her _blue_ eyes hard and calculating. "Answer me!"

"Y' in New York, where y' been for de last somet'ing odd years. An' de accent's all Remy," he added with an award wining wink.

She just brushed it off. "I'm Agent Carol Danvers, and I don't take being captured lightly. Not to mention the fact that you're attempts at flirting are unwanted…"

"Hey!"

"And as such, I'm going to have to arrest you."

"With what _p'tit_? Case y' hadn't noticed, we're not on y'r home turf," Remy was confused to say the least. Rogue thought she was some government agent. And her eyes were blue. And damnit, she wouldn't budge, which normally he wouldn't have a problem with but it would be nice for her to be in the right state of mind. Maybe if he kept her talking she'd snap out of it.

"I'm sure I can make due," And she did just that. Her hand went up to the medical bed and the rail beside it. She gripped one of the portions and clenched her hand. The metal wrenched and broke. She repeated the action on the other side. Satisfied she moved off of Remy briefly, enough to haul him upwards and then around. She brought his hands behind his back and crushed the metal around them. "That work for you sweetheart?"

"Remy knew you were warming up to him," he offered a slow grin, one he usually used to charm random women. He'd used it on Rogue before and it held no effect.

She just rolled her eyes, before exploring the room. She finally rested on the window, noticing the three other beds. "Caught others too, hmm?" She didn't wait for an answer but just scrutinized the other patients. Noting nothing familiar with the first two, she looked at the third. What she saw made her gasp and twirl to face her captor who was now her prisoner. "What the hell did you do to me?"

"Ain't dat a loaded question," Remy muttered under his breath, while standing casually as if a pole wasn't wrapped around his wrists.

Advancing towards him menacingly, she growled. "Why is there a body over there that looks exactly like me?"

Remy grinned, knowing she'd hate this answer. "Because dat's y' _belle_."

"I should have known that you would lie," she stalked the room and looked into the shiniest surface she found. What she saw made her eyes widen. "What happened to me?" Her breathing was slower, and her eyes showed confusion. Then they narrowed in anger and turned towards the source of her troubles. She went towards him again.

This time though, a soft fuchsia light filled the air followed by a crack. And then Remy was massaging his wrists. "Were dose really necessary? Remy's fine wit' de kinky, all y' had to do was ask."

"How dare you…" she had started to levitate slightly. And she was coming towards him, slowly. Then all of a sudden she stopped. Her hands went to her head, and her breathing became more labored. She floated to the floor and collapsed to her knees. "No, no…no." she muttered. Her body crumpled a few moments later.

Waiting to make sure this wasn't some trick, Remy walked over to pick up Rogue's form, though that had definitely not been Rogue. It was just plain strange. He deposited her back upon the bed and hoped that something like this wouldn't happen again. Just to make sure, he fastened the leather and lambskin lined restraints he found on the other side of the bed to her wrists. Maybe that would deter any further attacks. And yet, he didn't believe he would be that lucky.

- - - - -

She couldn't sleep. She'd tried but nothing seemed to be working. How could she sleep when one of her best friends was down in the med lab? Not to mention the fact that two other friends were there. There was also some unknown woman who fell into the equation somehow. Thinking over all the variables in it, Kitty remembered why she never fancied math much in school.

Exiting the refuge she had hoped to find in her room, she made her way to the stairs. Her small feet tread over the worn but lush carpeting on the floors. She had loved the excitement of living in a mansion when she first arrived. Who wouldn't? It was like a fairytale come true. One of those silly things little girls always dream about, finding a better life somehow, an increase in her situation. She had gotten the mansion yet missed out on the prince.

And really, the glitz and glamour life wasn't all it was cracked up to be. It had flaws, just like everything else. For instance how the mansion was inhabited by mutants. Waking up to find your toothbrush melted again or your doorknob iced because John and Bobby were at their tricks again didn't really fit. None of it fit, especially not having to watch your friends get hurt.

Her head was down as she ran a hand through her hair. Nothing was simple anymore. She really couldn't expect it to be. It would have been nice, regardless. Her feet fell on chilled tile and she knew she'd reached her destination of the kitchen. Her hand automatically went to flip the lights on, but instead sailed over the switch already in the up position.

"Damnit Jubes! I can't believe you left the lights on again!"

"Zen perhaps it is a good thing it was not her."

Kitty whirled around, ready to attack whoever was in the kitchen. When her eye fell upon the muscular build of Piotr, who was shirtless, she relaxed and flushed. She ran a hand through her hair, a mirror image of minutes ago. "Sorry, I'm just a little on edge. You know?"

"Da, I know what you mean Katya," Piotr sat at the counter with a mug in front of him. Although his fingers were looped through the handle, the liquid was still brimming near the edge. It had long since gone cold.

Ben and Jerry were calling her. And she answered their call by going to the freezer and extraction a quart of Jamaican Me Crazy. She lifted the top, letting it rest on the counter to reveal the chunky pineapple sorbet with the passion fruit swirl. She extracted two spoons and sat down at the stool next to the Russian. She offered him one of the spoons. Silently she wondered to herself how she could act this well around him.

He accepted with a skeptical look. "Sorbet?" He waited for her to take a bite before trying some himself. It was good, but he fully expected Kitty to want something more creamy and chocolately. The girl was a bear for anything containing chocolate.

Swallowing, she had to offer him a sheepish grin. "What can I say, I like to be healthy. Or…at least appear healthy. My parents were health nuts. Always with the organic foods so that I would grow up in good shape. I couldn't look at any junk food for awhile; it just reminded me what I couldn't have. And then guess what?"

"What?"

"They sent me to an institute where I'm surrounded by junk food!" Kitty laughed, as if the joke never got old with her.

Another scoop of sorbet was accompanied with a smile. "It looks like some of their teachings worked," he motioned towards the sorbet they were both eating out of.

She shrugged. "Can't teach an old dog new tricks, I guess. Besides, it's not like it would matter now with all the Danger Room session to keep me fit. I'm probably healthier than my parents ever hoped for."

Piotr nodded as they let a companionable silence come between them. "What are you doing up so late anyway?" He figured it would be the same reason that he, himself could not go back to sleep.

"Rogue." She answered practically silent. "I just don't know what's going on. Like, what happened when she collapsed in the hall and then when she woke up and just left? She looks so different right now. I don't know, it's like when she came here the first time and was in the med lab. All the uncertainty and worry. I had hoped with her taking the cure that this would all go away."

"Unfortunately we are never zat lucky. "

Kitty let out a chuckle. "Tell me about it. Ever since I came here it's like having a bullseye painted on your back. If something could happen, it will. Never gets dull that's for sure."

He noticed how her last sentence had been a bit wobbly. Thinking only to comfort his friend he draped an arm around her shoulders, giving a squeeze to let her know he was there. She looked up from the quart of fruity frozen desert she'd been drowning in. A small smile crept over her face.

"Thanks Pete," she leaned into his shoulder, glad to have someone to lean on.

"It's no problem Katya," Piotr smiled down at her. Sometimes she reminded him of his little sister. Most of the time though, she was just undeniably Kitty-like that she resembled no one else. "Have I ever told you about my sister?"

Her head lifted slightly to look into his eyes. "I don't think so. But you know me, scatterbrained."

He grinned at her joke. Kitty could remember almost anything if she wanted to. "Well, her name is Illyana. I call her my little snowflake because she'd always the first out in the snow," they sat there for quite awhile, as he retold various stories about his sister and his life in Russia.

- - - - -

While waiting to see when Rogue would wake again, Remy had extracted his deck of cards from his trench. He back in his seat, eyes trained on her form while his slender fingers worked through the deck. Cutting it, rearranging it, shuffling. He did it all without a thought, it was habitual to him.

It was during one of the times that he had rearranged the deck in numerical order of each suit that Rogue woke up again.

She turned on her side, her arm trailing behind. It was still fastened to the side of the bed. The resistance was what woke her. Blearily her eyes opened, to close quickly at the semi-bright lights in the room. She opened them again and closed them in quick secession. She went through blinking until her eyes had fully adjusted. The whole time Remy just watched her.

Curiously, she tugged on her arms, testing the restraints around her wrists. Her palms met the bottom of the mattress and she pushed herself into a sitting position. All the while, her eyes surveyed the room. They were brown this time. Finally they landed upon him, and a smirk crossed her features.

"Well, hello there."

Remy just watched her, waiting to see what would happen this time. He really didn't feel like getting attacked again. Personally, he'd much rather just have Rogue back to health and sanity.

"A silent type huh? I guess your looks make up for it. This supposed to be some nurse thing, 'cause personally I think the roles should be reversed. I've even got the outfit somewhere," she gave a wink as she purred the last part.

"Be nice to know y're name."

"Names. They're such a restriction on things. I mean, I think I'm restricted enough already, don't you think?" she motioned down towards her hands with a sly smile. "Not that I have anything against bondage, just makes things a little interesting."

"At least dis time y' aren't tryin' to kill me," he stated more to himself than anyone else. He ran a hand through his hair, wondering at what point he should go retrieve someone else.

"Aww, have a bad time with your last date? I promise to be good, just come a little closer. I'm almost certain this crap lighting isn't doing you any justice."

He remained firmly where he was. Just sitting there shuffling his cards, staring at her. She motioned him closer with her fingers but he didn't move. It wasn't Rogue. He didn't even know who the hell it was. Apparently she had some sort of active sex life though.

"Come on gorgeous! Bring those cards over here and we'll play some strip poker. And I have to tell you, I'm horrible at poker," she was wearing that grin again, the one that just radiated a _come hither_.

"How 'bout we play a game and if I win y' tell me your name?" he got up from his seat and walked a little closer.

"Where's the fun in that?" she noticed he stopped his journey when she said that. So she quickly remedied the situation. "Alright, but what do I get if I win?"

"I remove de restrictions."

"That's all?" she was disappointed, she was hoping she'd get a little more if she won the game. To show her disappointment with the turnings, she pouted, jutting out her lower lip. She was giving him the puppy dog face.

Running a hand through his hair he sighed. "What else do y' want?"

She bit her lip in speculation with a wicked gleam in her eye. "How about I tell you that when I win? And…if you win I'll tell you my name."

"_De accord_. We'll do a game of Texas Hold 'em." He shuffled the cards trying to figure the quickest way to win this game and figure out the current possessors' identity.

"Southern and French. What'd I do? Hit a jackpot?"

Remy gave her a look and she played it off with a laugh. He dealt out the cards from her bedside. He looked at his cards and smiled internally. He was going to find out who this person was and hopefully why Rogue had absorbed them.

"Why are you so fixated on my name?" She looked up from her cards and directly into his eyes. She took the fact that they were red on black all in stride.

"Can't a _homme _be curious?" His brows crinkled in mild annoyance. But he didn't let any of it follow into his voice as he relaxed his muscles from showing his emotions on his face.

She rolled her brown eyes. "Yeah, sure. Anyway, I've got to tell you those have got to be the best contacts I've ever seen. I mean, they completely cover your eyes, I don't see any white at all," she had stopped looking at her hand and was staring at his face.

"W'at if I told y' dey weren't contacts? Dat I was really a mutant?"

"Then I'd have to say you've got to be the sexiest mutant I've ever seen. I mean, if I received a nickel for every time I saw someone as fine as you, I'd have five cents. Besides, it's not like I can judge, I mean that would be hypocritical of me being one myself and all," and with that she slid her hands out from the lambskin cuffs.

"Y' could have gotten out of them anytime, yet you didn't?" Remy was confused with this girls actions.

"Well, I was hoping something a little more entertaining would result from remaining in them. Obviously that's not going to happen, well until I win this game," she gave an impish grin.

He smirked. "I wouldn't count on it, _fille_. Put y're cards down," She did, and he had her beat, easy. He laid his own down with the same satisfied smirk. Her face fell slightly.

She made a face, her brown eyes crinkling. "This sucks. Would you have let me win if I kept the cuffs on?"

"_Non_."

"Damn," she fell back unto the bed with an exasperated sigh. Then she looked up again, as if studying him. "You know, if you were a new hamburger at McDonald's, you've be McGorgeous."

Remy's face fell slightly, remembering that this wasn't Rogue at all. It was some girl who still hadn't told him her name. "Y' still gotta tell me y're name."

That didn't deter her in the least. "What's wrong? You look a little sad and gloomy. What you need is a little vitamin _me_."

"W'at are y'? A collection of cheesy pick-up lines?"

"Only for you. I'm sick. My medicine is to talk to you," she even let out a fake cough with a roguish grin attached.

He let out a snort. "Y're sick for sure."

"Well, then I think you should know, I'm wearing Revlon colorstay lipstick. Want to help me test the claim that it won't kiss off?"

"S' not going to work. An' y' owe me a name incase y're sex-addled brain forgot," Remy collected his cards again and shuffled them, looking down at Rogue's body.

She pouted and crossed her arms. "Man, you are not fun at all. If I tell you my name can we at least do something fun?"

"I'll t'ink about it," he drawled with a small smile.

"My names…ouch," her eyes became unfocused and her hands went to her head. The nails gravitated inwards and dug into her soft flesh. She let out a few protests while vehemently shaking her head. Then, just like with Carol, she went limp.

"Dat was interesting," Remy said to himself, now that Rogue was out again. "Doubt anyone'd believe me if I told dem what really happened anyway." He sat back down and began to shuffle through the cards waiting for the next outburst from Rogue and the never-ending cycle of psyches she had within her head.

- - - - -

"Ugh, I must of hit one too many," groggily her hand went to wipe her head, ridding it of any perspiration. Sitting up, she noticed that she wasn't alone in the room. "Who the hell are you _bub_?"

"Better question is who y' are _homme_."

"Great," she let out an exasperated sigh. "Not only do I wake up with a headache, but I find out I made it down south. Ain't that right Gumbo?"

Remy perked an eyebrow. "Well, dis has to be an improvement, at least y're familiar."

She stretched, soothing out the aches and pains from her unused muscles. "Familiar to who? I never saw yer ugly mug in my life."

"Remy'll have y' know dat deres quite a few _femmes_ dat'd disagree wit' dat."

"Do I look like a woman to you Gumbo?" she asked as she started to get out of the bed. Almost immediately the Cajun came over to make her sit back down. Remy had chosen to ignore that last statement. "Get yer hands away from me, I'm leaving wherever this is. Don't like hospitals."

"We've got dat in common den," Remy decided maybe talking would be the best course of action. As long as he didn't find out he was really a _she_ things might go smoothly this round.

"That's nice, but I don't care. I'm leaving."

"Dat would be a negative Wolverine," his eyes were glowing slightly, waiting in apprehension for the other person to make a move. Unfortunately though, he couldn't do anything to damage Rogue while whoever was in her could do all the damage they liked.

"And you're goin' to stop me?" She laughed. "I'd like to see that."

Remy took out a card and charged it slightly, holding it in his hands. "Don't want to hurt y' _homme_. Just get back in de bed."

She didn't listen and moved ahead, which forced Remy to loose his card near her feet. It exploded on impact and sent her reeling back. She found her footing quickly. "Nice party trick kid. Try mine." And with that, six identical claws came through her pale knuckles. But instead of adamantium, they were bone.

"Notice anyt'ing different?" Remy asked as she started a predatory approached towards him.

"Like what?"

"Y'r claws."

She looked down and blue eyes widened. "What the hell? Where's that cursed metal?" Her eyes trained on his form and narrowed in malice. "You're going to pay for whatever you did Gumbo."

"Remy didn't do anything," Remy explained as he backed into a wall. Quickly he turned as three claws embedded themselves into the portion of wall where his heart would have been. "Now dat ain't nice." He threw a card near her feet again, sending her flying into one of the machines around them.

She got up with a growl. "Its on kid," and she charged at him again, wielding those claws like they were naturally part of her hands. Each and every cut made would heal instantly, leaving Remy in an interesting position: To put more charge in the cards to hurt her, which she would heal, or risk that she might not heal when she eventually passed out again.

- - - - -

It was between the fourteenth or fifteenth game of solitaire that she woke up again. He was sitting amid the destruction that Wolverine had caused. He'd tried to clean up the worst of it, but some things just couldn't be taken care of. Again her eyes were blue, but it was softer this time. She yawned when she woke and stretched her arms up like a cat. Then she rubbed her eyes, trying to rid herself of the sleep. She looked innocent doing that, like a child.

"Where am Ah?"

Her voice definitely was southern, even Mississippian, but it sounded too young for her. There was a glimmer of hope that somehow this was going in the right direction. He watched the blue eyes search the room and land on him. He just stared back, wondering what the ploy would be this time.

"Excuse meh Mister, but could ya tell meh where Ah am?"

"Y're in de hospital," Remy answered trying to figure out who this was. It was like a game now, trying to figure out who all the people were. Wasn't really an enjoyable game to be sure, since most often the people reacted violently to him. There had been others besides the Carol, Logan and the pick-up line girl. To say his night was interesting was to say the least.

"Oh," her eyes went wide as she looked down at her body. For some reason she didn't notice that things weren't exactly as they should be. "What happened to me?"

"Y' had a bit of an episode. Nothin' real serious, but y've been out for a little bit," he supplied, hoping that somehow this manifestation would get him closer to Rogue. Besides, it's not as if he hadn't ever told a little white lie before.

"Where're mah parents?" Her voice was so tiny. She was nervous and scared but trying not to be. Whoever this one was, they weren't old enough to know the world yet.

Remy ran a hand through his hair. He was making half of this up as he went, which wasn't difficult. "Dey were here just a few minutes ago. Doctor sent dem home. He didn't want them to spend de whole night here and den not be awake when you woke up."

"But Ah just woke up now so then…" she seemed confused about it, as if trying to work it all out.

"Well, den we just not tell dem 'bout dis _non_?" He gave a little wink, to show it was a secret to keep just between them. This was turning out to be more like talking to a child then he would have imagined. Why would Rogue have absorbed a child?

"And who are ya?"

The question made him stop wondering why the absorption happened. Just that it did. "Specialist called in t' help y'. Yo'r parents want y' back to health as soon as possible."

She looked down at her hands for a moment before her baby blue eyes glanced at him once more. "Oh," she looked around the room, wondering to ask what all was wrong or just forget about it. "Are those cards?" She chose to forget.

"_Oui_," curiously, he wondered if the kid would even know that little bit of French. But she nodded slightly as if in understanding, so he didn't make any other attempts to answer.

"Wanna play Go Fish?"

It was so unexpected that he almost laughed out right. He watched as she folded her legs up under her, so that she sat cross-legged. It left enough room at the end of the hospital bed for him. "Sure, but I gotta tell you, I play a mean Go Fish," Remy admonished as he climbed into the open portion of the medical bed.

"Nah-uh! I always win, expect with Anna 'cause that girl cheats," she was smiling, and her blue eyes sparkled with an innocence that Rogue had long since lost. She watched as Remy shuffled the cards in his hand like an expert.

"Anna huh? She y'r girlfriend?" He was showing off, just a little. It was for the kid, that's what he told himself. It was for the kid that he was elaborately shuffling. He had a talent with cards after all, why not use it?

She looked scandalized by his question and amended it rapidly. "Nope. She's mah best friend. We race toads with one another. But she always finds a way to cheat," she quickly picked up her cards, making it seem like Remy would steal them or see what her hand was.

"An' y' just let her?" They each had seven cards, and so were now allotted the time to check over their hand. After that it was determining who would go first. "Y' go first, y' de sick one an' all."

She looked down at her cards speculating, and then back at him, as if sizing him up. "Nah, Ah cheat right back," her grin was full of childlike mischief. "Do ya have any sevens?"

He threw down the seven of spades he had in his hand. "I'm Remy," deciding it high past time they introduce themselves, then he'd know who the child was, although still be missing the significance of who he was to Rogue.

"Cody. Cody Robins."

"Well, Cody, y' got some Queens?" Remy looked over the top of his cards, holding them near his chest. The kid already admitted to cheating, no sense in making it easier for him. Besides, it was fun.

"So where are ya a specialist from?" Cody gave him a smirk before ordering. "Go Fish."

"Naw'leans," Remy dejectedly picked up a card from the top pile, adding to his hand so that it was once again full of various cards from the deck.

"Really? Ah've always wanted to go there. Anna would jump at tha chance to meet ya, she loves Cajun things," he asked for a three and in return got a fish. "Ah think that she'd pack up and move over there sometimes the way she goes on about how great the city's supposed to be."

"Sounds like a great _fille_," he still wasn't sure who the 'Anna' character was. It couldn't be Rogue; he'd learned her real name here was Marie. But she hated to use it. Marie wasn't close to Anna. Not to mention that Rogue seemed to hate anything and all things Cajun, including for the most part him.

He grinned. "Yup she is. It's too bad she got this skin condition; it means we have to be more careful now," he seemed forlorn at that fact, like it tugged on his heart slightly to have something change in his life, even if it was just something like that.

"Skin condition?" That didn't raise any questions about the boy's friend. It was curious, because to have a skin condition in the south would be hell for the host. Long sleeves and full legged pants were murder when it was muggy out.

"Yeah, her Momma and Auntie Irene say she's got to be covered up all the time from now on, no exceptions. So we can't go swimmin' anymore or jumpin' in puddles. And it seriously makes it hard to go and capture decent toads," his face fell a little more with the continual talk of it. "Any Jacks?"

"Just de one," Remy threw down a Jack of Diamonds that he'd been holding on to. "Dat does sound like a downer. Guess y'll just have to be stealthier in y'r escapades _hein_?"

"Ya've no idea. But Anna and Ah'll come up with something. Personally Ah think they're just over reacting cause that girl has such pale skin. Probably afraid she's gunna burn or something," he put down the twos Remy had quested about. "Although, she'd gotta wear these gloves all the time now. Best if when she wears a t-shirt, they reach all the way past her elbows. Like opera ladies. Ah get to tease her non-stop about them then."

"'M sure she'll appreciate it too. Let's hope she gives y' a head start before comin' after y'," he suggested, knowing the type of girl this Anna was. It reminded him of Bella. Well, at least when Bella and him were children. The current Bella was none to childlike, and didn't exactly have qualms about killing him as soon as she saw his red on black eyes.

"She'd catch up. Anna's pretty fast 'cause her momma signed her up for gymnastics and that means she's gotta go running at least once a day. Most of the time she just chases meh and says it's a run," he smiled at the memory. "She's always running after meh because of something Ah supposedly did. Do Ah look like Ah'd put worms in someone's sandwich?"

Remy had to chuckle at that. The description of their friendship was like his own with Bella. Minus, of course, the fateful meeting where she tried to use him as target practice. "Y' two sound just like one of m' old _amis_ down in de Big Easy."

"Really? Me an' Anna have only known each other for a few years. 'Cause her momma, Auntie Irene and she only moved to Caldecott for a bit. That's when we found out we were best friend. Of course mah one friend Freddy think Ah'm gunna catch cooties from Anna. But that's just silly," Cody said making 'Freddy' seem extremely wrong in his assessment.

"Freddy's just jealous dat y're friends wit' de _fille_ instead of him. In a few years he won't t'ink she's got cooties. Y'll probably have to bat away de boys wit' sticks. No doubt Anna'll help y' out wit' dat, 'specially if she's anyt'ing like Bella." Remy smiled faintly at the memories they'd had together. He hoped that this Cody, wherever he was right now, still had Anna for his friend. It wasn't fair to have them turn out the same way that he had.

"Is that yah're friend?"

"Dat's her. Now, seeing as 'm whooping y'r butt at Go Fish, how 'bout y' tell me how y' and Anna met?" He grinned down at the thirteen pairs of cards he already had arrayed out on the bed before him. The kid only had eight. That left six pairs in play and he'd have to get all of them if he wanted to win.

"Yah're trying to distract meh so ya can win!" Cody proclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Remy. But his accusation fell as soon as the Cajun looked for the culprit that Cody was pointing at. He fell into boyish giggles.

"I would never do such a t'ing. 'M much sneakier."

Cody stuck out his tongue at the older man. "Ah can tell ya lyin'. There's no sense denying it."

"Lying?" Remy's hands flew to his chest as if wounded. "How in de world would y' know dat 'm lying? I'll have y' know 'm one of de best liars dere are."

"Well, do ya always smile when ya lie?" Cody's face was full and bright with his smile. "Any fours?"

"Go fishing y' rat," he grinned at the boy. "Y' got dat big ol' river near y' f'r dat. Seeing as y' live in Mississippi an' all," Remy couldn't deny that he was having fun with this manifestation. Kid reminded him of his cousin Lapin when he was younger.

Cody grumbled while retrieving a card. He looked at it and grinned. "Any Queens?" He watched with glee as Remy dejectedly put down his Queen of Hearts. Cody placed it down with the Queen of Spades.

"Y' best take care of dat card, she's one of m' favorites."

"Ah'll keep that in mind. Any sixes?" he grinned as the Cajun threw down another plastic rectangle with six red hearts on it.

Remy stuck his tongue out at Cody. "Y'r cheatin'."

"Say's the liar."

"Just keep playin'. 'M going to win dis game somehow," he scowled down at his hand, a measly two, a five and a King. They weren't going to do much for him as he'd already inquired about all of them.

"Someone's a sorry loser!" Cody taunted. Then he yawned, his blue eyes blinking out the sudden onslaught of drowsiness. He yawned again. "Ah'm getting sleepy. Did ya give meh some more medicine?"

"It was time for y' next dose. Best if y' just go to sleep," Remy replied, playing the part of the specialist doctor again. He wasn't looking forward to the next person to come from Rogue. He'd almost forgotten that the kid was even in Rogue's body.

"Night Remy."

"_Bonne nuit _kid."

- - - - -

It was almost morning now. He'd spent most of the night wrestling different personas in Rogue's head. The last of which was Cody, who had really been no problem at all. He'd actually enjoyed that one. The kid was just as he'd called him, a kid. He wasn't exposed to the harsh realities of the world. He didn't have all of that to worry about. Or, at least didn't at the time of absorption.

Remy had no doubt that if the sun shown down here, it would be. It was just getting to be early enough for the sun to take rein over the moon for dominance of the sky. Sometimes, the night watch really was the worst of them all. He still didn't believe anyone was going to take his side that he didn't destroy the room single handed. Maybe he could get a swing vote out of Kitty.

Figuring the others would be around soon, he went to go check on the other three patients. He'd ignored them for most of the night, having been otherwise occupied with Rogue—or rather whoever was currently in control of Rogue. The doors swished when he entered Betsy and Bobby's room. They were both breathing regularly, as if they were just sleeping. Which in essence, they were. His feet traveled over to the next room. The one that held Carol Danvers.

"Y're kind o' a bitch," Remy muttered looking down at the woman's unconscious form. He checked the same thing that he had with the other two. Her breathing was shallower than theirs, but had been since the previous night. "Not dat Remy put _all_ de blame on y'. Remy'd be a lil' cranky too if he woke up in a place he didn't know. Not dat he'd attack de attractive stranger…"

Walking back to Rogue's room, he sat back down in the now familiar chair. He took out the deck that was missing a few cards since the encounter with Wolverine. His fingers fell into the rhythm of shuffling the cards as he let his eyes shut and take in the moment of calm. They had been few during the night.

The soft shifting of blankets was what made him open his eyes again. Rogue was slowly turning from her position on her back to her side. Her arm cradled close to her body as her legs folded up underneath her. A lazy hand made its way to caress her temple. With its withdrawal, her eyes opened and for the first time that night, they were her usual emerald in color.

She blinked and surveyed her surroundings, yet found little. She turned to her back and slowly edged herself into a semi-seated position. Then she looked near where he was. "Where am Ah?"

Remy was relieved to hear her familiar southern drawl, but it could be a ruse. "Y're at McDonalds. Would y' like a happy meal wit' dat?"

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Removing the giant elephant on mah head will due for now, thanks."

"Ah, Roguey s'nice to know y' back in y'r own skin again," he moved to turn on some more of the lights in the room. Then he brought his chair closer to her bedside.

She groaned. "What, do ya and Jubes conspire ta make up nicknames Ah'll hate?" she sunk a little lower on the bed, reveling in the warmth, yet not quite understanding why she was here. She noticed he looked like he was about to answer and held up her hand. "No. Don't answer that, Ah want to live in blissful ignorance. How long have Ah been here?"

"Since last night."

"That's good," she gave a sigh of relief. "Ah don't know why Ah fell like that, lucky you were there though. Otherwise it would have been the next morning when someone found meh."

"_Chère_, dere's somet'ing I should probably tell y'," his shuffling increased in speed slightly, the only sign that he was at a loss for words.

"Whatever it is Swamp rat—" she tucked a hair behind her ear mid-sentence and just stopped. She gripped a chunk of hair and brought it near her face. Her eyes widened as she saw its appearance. "What the hell happened to mah hair?!?"

"Well, see dat's de t'ing. Y' went a little crazy after y'r fever," seeing that she was waiting for him to continue, with narrowed eyes, he let out a dejected breath. "_Merde_ I wish Henri was here."

"Ah wish the mansion was made of chocolate but not everything comes true."

"Y' wish de mansion was made of chocolate?"

"That's not the point right now!"

Remy raised his hands in defeat. "All right, all right. What was Remy—I sayin'? Oh. De best way to start dis is probably to have y' look out de window."

Grudgingly, Rogue did so. What she saw made her gasp and cover her mouth with her hands. "What happened to them?" She could see Betsy and Bobby in an adjoined room next to her. The room farthest from hers held another woman who she had never met before.

"Y' happened Rogue," he said quietly, not enjoying in the least having to deliver this particular news.

She whirled. "What? How did Ah do that? The last thing Ah remember is passing out in the hallway! And ya just told meh that Ah've been in the med lab since last night."

He grimaced; she was right in that sense. "Dat's m' fault. Wasn't quite sure if y' remembered any of de previous night. Y' collapsed in de hallway two nights ago. Y' woke up yesterday night and took off to one of de clubs downtown."

"All right, say that's true. Then how did Ah end up hurting them?" Rogue motioned towards the three bodies in the other rooms. She had her confusion rooted firmly in her eyes. There was no denying the fact that she had no clue what had just happened to her.

"As far as Henri explained it, de cure doesn't work."

"WHAT?"

"De cure doesn—" he began again when she gripped his arm. "_Chère_, I kind o' am attached to dat arm."

"Shut up," she hissed. She was trying to process what he'd just said. The cure didn't work. Her salvation didn't work. This meant that just as she was loosening up in her attire again, she'd have to cover up. Her curse would return to kill the blessing she'd had before. "Ah can't believe this. Does this mean that mah powers will come back?"

"Already came back. And wit' dem, a few others. Betsy's in dere 'cause she tried to get into y'r mind and stop y'. Bobby…well de best we can tell is dat he got absorbed by y'," Remy felt like the perpetual barrier of bad news. He noticed each word he spoke made her shoulders slump a little lower and sink farther into the pillow behind her.

Rogue closed her eyes, trying and hoping beyond hope that this was all a dream. Some sick twisted dream of hers. It's not like she hadn't had ones where she'd lost the cure, or never received it. "And what about that woman over there? What'd Ah do to her?"

"Absorbed her we t'ink. Found her unconscious atop y' when we got to de club."

She ran her hands through her hair, stopping momentarily when they came out sooner than usual. She growled in frustration, before burying herself in the pillows behind her. "Gawd, why couldn't mah life by simple? Ah could have not been a mutant and stayed with mah parents in Meridian forever an' been happy. Instead Ah get to be a mutant, _again_, and have crazy things happen to meh!"

"On de bright side, life's more interestin' dis way. 'Sides, y' got to meet me dis way," Remy had a charming, yet at the same time entirely fake, smile on. He'd even made a small hand gesture.

Despite herself, Rogue let out a chuckle. Sometimes Remy could alleviate a situation as easily as breathing. Her laughter though soon turned into coughing. It was so severe that it shook her small frame. Remy went to get a glass of water, returning to offer it to Rogue. She accepted gratefully, and took a drink.

"Thanks. Don't know what came over meh."

"Well, y' did have a bad fever after y' fell, maybe it's a side effect," Remy informed her, still quite worried at the amount of coughing she'd just done so soon after waking up.

"So what exactly did Ah do while Ah was…otherwise occupied?" She tucked a remaining white forelock behind her ear, leaving her eyes wide and searching.

He ran his fingers through the cards still occupying his hand. "Y'r appearance f' one t'ing was different," Rogue raised an eyebrow, coughing once more and grappling for the water glass. She clutched it like a favorite toy. Once she stopped, he continued. "Don't quite know how, _mais_ y' changed y'r hair. Looks kinda cute by de was, liked it better before…but beggars can't be choosers _non_?"

"Swamp rat," she warned lightly feeling a blush warm her cheeks at the out of the blue compliment.

"Anyway, y' had on clothes dat y' wouldn't normally wear, otherwise dis place would run out o' cold water. An' 'm sure y' weren't exactly actin' like de Rouge we all know," he mentioned the last part with the hint of a smirk across his face.

"You're not sure?"

"Wasn't dere _chére_. _Iceboy_'s de one who got close to y' before y' went comatose on us."

"Oh, well—" she coughed again, which she'd done numerous times during the conversation. She took another drink from the water glass. It was right after the swallow that she coughed up the first bit of blood.

Crimson stained the pearly whites of the bed sheets. A few more horrible coughs before Rogue simply fell back on the bed. Her eyes fluttered closed. One of her hands reached out towards him. After that gesture her whole body began to convulse. That's when Remy ran for help.

- - - - -

"Can you believe this?" Jubilee was walking down the metallic hallway next to Mr. McCoy.

The large furry mutant looked down at the young woman with slight confusion. "Can I or can I not believe what?"

"Well," she took a deep breath, which was always the precursor for a long winded monologue from pyrotechnic. But this time she was stopped when the small hand of Kitty Pryde covered her mouth. "Perhaps now is not the best time Jubes."

Jubilee made a face at her friend who simply returned it. Hank watched on with amusement at the antics of the two girls. They were used to having people in the med lab that they'd cover it with defense mechanisms, even ones so trivial.

"You can be such a jerk sometimes _chica_," Jubilee protested huffily while crossing her arms. Her lips were just beginning to form an award winning pout that she'd practiced in the mirror to be perfect.

"Stick and stones can't break my bones and your words will never hurt me!" Kitty countered with a self satisfied smirk upon her features.

The Asian girl rolled her eyes. "You've got it wrong Kit. The sticks and stones _will_ hurt you. Geez, you can't even get a simple phrase right."

"Oh no, I got it right," her grin increased in intensity. "I'll simply phase through the sticks and stones."

"That's cheating!"

"That's being a mutant."

Jubilee was sending nasty looks at her friend as they rounded the corner. Kitty in turn just laughed them off, having been on the receiving end several times before. Right as they came around the corner, they were knocked flat into the floor. Jubilee went up on her elbows to see none other than Remy LeBeau draped across hers and Kitty's legs.

"Fine morning for a jog Remy."

"_Bonjour p'tit_," Remy greeted breathlessly. He quickly stood up and helped the two of them to their feet. He was a gentleman after all. "Doc, y' better come quick. Rogue woke up—"

"Well then what are we waiting for?" Jubilee started towards the rooms.

Remy caught her arm before she got too close. "Dere's a problem t'ough. She was awake and fine while we were talkin'. Den she started coughing and then she coughed up blood. Now she's convulsing on de bed."

"I suggest we hasten our way to her then," Hank advised while walking quickly towards Rogue's room. "Remy, Jubilee, Kitty, go and try to hold her down. I'm going to retrieve something that will hopefully calm her down." He left the room, leaving the three young people to stare at one another before they went towards Rogue.

Hank was rummaging through various cabinets looking for the appropriate sized needle for the injection he planned to use. As he was doing this the doors swished open, emitting another person to the lab. He looked up briefly and saw that Ororo had walked into the room.

"Hank, what's going on?"

He went back to his searching. "It seems that Rogue has woken up."

"Really?" She moved towards the window where she could just barely glimpse into Rogue's room. She noticed Kitty, Jubilee and Remy all crowded around the young girls bedside. "Then why are you looking for something in here?"

"Seems we have a bit of a problem with my patient. Would you prefer the short hand or long hand version?" He pushed aside a length of tubing used for drawing blood. That wouldn't be necessary.

"Short hand I believe."

"That's just as well, that's the version I was given as well. It seems that Rogue woke up, and began coughing at some point. This at a certain time escalated into coughing up blood. I believe the strain from that made her pass out and her body began to convulse," He stood from where he was looking under a cabinet to walk cross the room and begin searching another one. "I know I put it somewhere…"

Ororo went over to look through the window again. This time the scene was very different. She saw the three still holding on to Rogue, but suddenly Kitty went intangible as five needles went right through the space where she had occupied. The three locked eyes and then stared at the room as various machines began levitating off the floor. Remy said something to the two girls, who nodded in response. Kitty climbed unto Rogue's bed and sat on top of her, bracing her arms and legs. That left Remy and Jubilee to the task of setting the rooms machinery down as quickly as possible.

"Hank, I think you should hurry along with whatever you are looking for," the weather goddess's voice was a little strained as she watched the scene unfold before her.

The furry mutant stood up triumphant with an appropriately sized needle in his hand. He fitted the needle to the base of the drug he intended to inject. "Why ever would that be? She was simply convulsing when I left her…" his eyes traveled to the window to witness what was happening in the room. "My stars and garters."

"My thoughts exactly."

"I have to go help them," he made his way through the door and into Rogue's room without any more preamble.

She looked through the window once more to see Kitty phase Hank right before a spoon came close to his head. It embedded itself in the wall. She made up her mind and walked over to the phone attached to the wall opposite her. Picking it up she dialed a number she hadn't for a very long time.

"'Ello, you have reached the Muir Island research complex. Dr. Moria MacTaggert is unavailable at present. If ye leave a message, we will get back to you as soon as possible."

"Of all the times not to answer your phone Moria," Ororo heard the click at the end of the recording. "Moria, we need your help. Something's happened to one of the students and I don't know if Hank can handle it. Please come as soon as you get this message."

In England a petite woman ran towards the phone. Her short brunette hair was in a mess after long hours spent over her work. She was huffing by the time she picked up the phone. "Ororo? Ororo! Come back! I need to talk to you!" All she received was a dial tone. "Brilliant, bloody brilliant."

* * *

**Author's Note:** All right, I realize how late this chapter is. And…I'm not going to make excuses. I am sorry that I got sick though. This chapter's mostly from Remy's point of view as well as a little snippet from Kitty and Piotr. 

_Reviews_ –_ Lovestoread,_ I'm glad you liked it. Yeah, Rogue isn't through the woods yet power wise. Logan and Rogue have a nice father/daughter like relationship whether they admit it or not, its there. Remy's got to be a gentleman, otherwise Tante Mattie might have to get out her wooden spoon.

Coming Up: Surprises from an old friend.

Translations:

_Bonne nuit _– Good night

_De accord_ – Agreement. (Basically okay or fine.)

**And, here's a little preview as an apology for the long wait.**

"_What was that call about?" A chin came to rest upon her shoulder. The own had to stoop down as his frame was taller than hers. _

_Moria leaned back into his comforting embrace. "It was from the Xavier's. Ororo called about one of the students; she said that they're in trouble," her hands took off the spectacles that sat upon her nose, letting one hand massage her temples to help alleviate the stress there. _

"_I'm sure she can have Hank take care o' it, as long as he's not too engrossed in his chemistry set," his strawberry hair shook as he laughed. His green eyes alight with the memory of his old friend. _

"_Sean, be nice!"_

"_I am nice!"_

_She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, she said Hanks there and doesn't think he can deal with this," the sentence hung open. Something that Hank McCoy couldn't handle was something indeed. _

"_Something Hank can't deal with? I never thought I'd see the day," Sean removed his head from her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. The fact in the matter was that there was little Hank could not handle by himself. The man was a walking fountain of knowledge. _

"_Me neither." Her eyes closed as she tried to think of what to do next. And what could possibly have happened to one of the students at Xavier's. Nothing seemed amiss when she'd gone for Charles's funeral a few months ago. _

"_So are you going to go?" He looked down at the woman he held in his arms._

_Moria looked up into his face. "I have to. I mean if it's something that dire…" She didn't even want to finish the sentence. She'd met many of the students in the institute before and she didn't want to see any of them hurt. It was hard enough there having three teachers gone without adding another problem. _

"_Don't worry, I'll come with ye. I've been wanting to see Theresa anyway. Not to mention this way we can return some things to them."_

_She sent a small glare at him. "Rahne will be happy to see her again," her mind was made up. They were going to New York first thing in the morning. _


End file.
